


Once Upon a Time in Kebre

by Chairtastic



Category: Dan and Mab's Furry Adventures
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Adventure & Romance, Angels, Demons, Elsewhere Fic, Multi, Originally Posted Elsewhere, Slice of Life, Violence, cubi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-12 08:15:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 80,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13543353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chairtastic/pseuds/Chairtastic
Summary: To the East of the Kingdom of H-Ann is a long stretch of coastline, where an empire once stood but now has fragmented into various states.  Three people from different nations, and three different species, all find themselves living together and trying to move past their respective tragedies.





	1. Meet the Bloodstones

**Chapter 1- Meet the Bloodstones**  
  
    Hyden always went to the pawn shop near the wharf on Sundays, when the ports were closed and the sailors would be forced to stay and raise hell in the taverns. Usually awesome stuff from around the world would find their way to the pawn shop to pay for grog. Awesome things like dragon scales, maps of long dead nations, statues of Cubi goddesses. Stuff that was decidedly not from dull old Vecenstein with their snow, and their red brick houses, and their nose to the grindstone attitude. Hyden got enough of that from family, more than enough.  
  
    And on one Sunday, when the wharf was closed and sailors needed grog desperately, Hyden found a stack of parchment in a glass case in a plush interior, with a peacock feather quill and bottle of gold ink alongside it. The first sheet of parchment was essentially a cover, implying the rest were arranged into a booklet. A sigil of a canine Demon in gold leaf, a mouse Angel in silver leaf, and a ferret Being in bronze leaf arranged over each other with arms and wings spread took up the center of the parchment. Around the sigil were lines of ink depicting a tropical jungle island with a galleon offshore, and three words in bold calligraphy.  
  
'Ti'baltr Citizenship Application'.  
  
    “Is this real?” Hyden asked the old persian cat behind the counter. She'd known him for a few years now, enough to not bother looking up from her crossword puzzles unless he broke something. A grandmotherly woman missing some fingers on her right hand, replaced with steel prosthesis, covered in a shawl and robe of lavender, with hair as white as her fur in a bun, Ms. Zed. She nodded at Hyden while still looking at her paper.  
  
    “The boy who sold it said he'd bartered with a Mer for it. I couldn't give him what he asked, but he left here happy enough,” she answered. Hyden leaned in close to the case. Seeing his reflection staring back at him faintly. His forest green wool checked with speckles of bronze. Big brown eyes wide with amazement. He recoiled when his breath started to fog the glass up too much, twisting to make sure his leathery wings did not strike any figures on the shelves behind him. “I doubt anyone in town has the gold for the actual worth of that bit of history. Would you like to hear the story, little demon?” Ms. Zed put down the paper and motioned to a chair near her own seat for the young ram.  
  
    Hyden sat, casting glances at the glass case while the old cat spun her tale. “A couple hundred years ago, Ti'baltr wasn't the big and powerful city it is today. It was little more than a fort that sandalwood loggers lived in. But on the island the fort was built on, there were two warring factions of Creature, you see. A Demon family, and a flight of Angels. 'Two great houses, both alike in dignity', heh. Well, one of the Beings from the fort liked watching the two forces battle, and who wouldn't? When do you see Angels stand and fight anymore?  
  
    “Anyway, this Being started talking to soldiers from the two armies to find out what they were fighting over. Demons today will eat you if you look at them funny, but after a long fight, they'll do just about anything if you help them out of their armor. Turns out the ancestors of the two families had visited a Phoenix oracle who said an empire of great power would emerge from the ruling family of the island. They'd been fightin' since then to make it come true.”  
  
    “That sounds awfully direct for a Phoenix oracle, Ms. Zed,” Hyden said, frowning. The cat smiled and steepled her fingers.  
  
    “It does, doesn't it? The Angels had thought so too, and been fighting while pondering on it. Well this Being heard this and had a wicked idea. He was a ferret, little demon, you know how they are when they sense the opportunity for causing trouble. When he wasn't off logging, he went to the camps of the two armies and found the heirs of the big families. What do you think he did?”  
  
    “Try to kill them?”  
  
    “No no no, little demon. He did something even worse.” Ms. Zed leaned in conspiratorially, casting glances to the storefront, which Hyden mimicked while leaning in turn. The cat whispered, “He married them,” then relaxed in her chair, laughing her head off for a moment. Hyden stared at her, confused for a moment, before awkwardly laughing a bit too. “Ooh, sorry little demon. It wasn't quite as quick as that, but yes. That one Being wormed his way into the hearts of both the heirs. 'He's just a Being, so how could he pose a threat', thought their parents.  
  
    “When he proposed to each one, and they accepted, the Being sprung the trap and revealed to them his trick. I don't know what he was doing, or what he wanted, but the leaders of the two armies were downright furious, ready to kill him on principle. But the heirs....” Ms. Zed took on a wistful expression, her eyes focusing on nothing as she was lost in memories. “Mikhail and Nanbi, the Demon and Angel respectively, they loved him. And they wouldn't let their folks lay a finger on the treacherous ferret, not them or the entirety of their armies. That's them on the cover of the booklet.”  
  
    “Isn't Mikhail a boy's name?” Hyden tilted his head slightly to the side, confused.  
  
    “The closer you get to the equator, the stranger the people are. It's why only the people up north, like us, are normal. They don't mind that sort of thing down south. So by daisy-chaining the marriage, the Being had made the Demons and Angels one family. The family of the island. They gave him a title of respect, Dominus, and he seemed to like it so much he made it his new name. Without the constant warring, the three groups could settle down and make something of that speck of sand on the globe.  
  
    “When they were their biggest, everyone wanted to be part of Ti'baltr. Those applications were penned and given to nobles, priests, even Creatures. They stopped after... well, it was a big thing. I'm sure it's in the history books somewhere. But those things are rare and valuable these days. Still good, as far as I know. Just fill it out and bam.” She gestured flippantly. “Don't know how much longer the magic in it will last, though.”  
  
    “So... this Being lied to two people creatively and got them to intimidate their parents into backing down... and people wanted to come live with this guy?”  
  
    “Yeah. Not everyone can say they outwitted Creatures, little demon, let alone Angels.” Ms. Zed coughed a little. She always did that when she'd been talking too long. “Sorry, little demon, I think I have to close the shop early today. Did you have anything you wanted to buy?” Hyden glanced at the booklet in the glass case, but shook his head. “Aw well. Maybe I'll have something for you next week. Don't be a stranger.”  
  
    Hyden left, pulling on the thickly woven cap and coat he had left on a coat rack near the door. “Bye, Ms. Zed,” he said as he left. Outside, the snow had stopped, but it was still gathered in piles along cobblestone streets, or on the brick houses with their twisted onion shaped tops. Vecenstein, a port city in the subarctic of Furrae. The city was only important in that the fjord the comprised its port was easily fortified. A haven from pirates and icebergs.  
  
    That it had a family of demons to bolster their armed forces against those pirates probably helped. Hyden pulled his coat closer to him, and folded his wings down lest a gust carry him off over the houses. Again. The young ram passed many Beings on the way out of the wharf, they hastily crossed the street to avoid walking near him in the kindest instances, and spat at him as he went in the worst. Hyden's mother had told him they were bitter for the need of Demons in their town. That they could not fend off Creatures on their own like the ports down south. Many of Hyden's family took glee in rubbing the Being's noses in it, while Hyden just wanted to them to leave him alone.  
  
    Them and certain members of his family, as he remembered upon seeing a winged figure gliding through the air over a line of buildings to land in the street in front of Hyden. She was a demon ewe, with dark green fleece and jagged dark blue lines mimicking lightning along her arms and legs; dressed in fur-lined scale mail, a sheathed saber at her side, green hair pulled back in a severe braid, expression quietly furious. Hyden stopped his advance to look at the ground near her feet, unable to meet the other demon's gaze.  
  
    “Cousin,” she started, her tone inquiring. “You know you're too young to be out here alone. Your mother has told you many times, grandfather has told you many times, both of my parents have told you many times. Do you want adventurers to kidnap you? Is that it?”  
  
    “I always go to the wharf on Sundays....”  
  
    “To meet with that Being woman, yes. I don't care where you go, who you see, or why, cousin. But if you keep going out alone before your horns even grow in, you'll end up dead in the street like your father did.” Her tone was showing more and more frustration as she started on him, her black fingers showing their retractable claws. The older sheep grabbed Hyden by the arm painfully tight and flapped her bat wings, propelling the two of them into the air without visible effort. After a moment, Hyden started flapping his too. He wasn't strong enough to fly, but the lift would make his cousin's work easier, and perhaps she'd stop trying to crush his arm.  
  
    “Auriga, you're hurting me.”  
  
    “Good. Father says your pain threshold is too low for your age, this will be good practice for you. We're going home, and you can explain to your mother where you were all afternoon.” Hyden grumbled a bit, prompting his cousin to halt in the air and yank the young ram up to her face, where she snarled at him with most un-sheepish fangs. “What was that?”  
  
    Hyden flinched at the expression but knew better than to try denying anything. It had never worked on his mother or Uncle. “I said I don't know why she cares given she has a new baby on the way...” Auriga slapped him hard in the face, nearly twisting the ram's head too far. “Ow!”  
      
    “Just stop talking until we get home, cousin,” Auriga's tone was softer now, seeing how close she'd come to snapping the ram's neck by accident. The trip over the houses and businesses of Vecenstein was passed in silence from then on, Hyden swaying in the breeze while flapping weakly.  
  
    His cousins always hit him. They always did more damage than intended, and they were always sorry allegedly. That didn't stop them hitting him again later. Auriga was usually sorrier than others, but it didn't matter.  
  
    'Home' for Hyden and his family was a tall house in the noble's residential district, far removed from the port of the city, with the ruler's castle in view. Built in the style of some foreign land, the house was gray and black, with high ceilings, tall pointed archways and windows, and statues of grisly figures along the gutters.  
  
    Once inside, Auriga pulled Hyden along by his arm, grip unrelenting as when she was flying. Empty black-eyed undead wandered the halls, doing chores given to them by the lords of the house. But none of Hyden's many cousins were visible. “Where...?”  
  
    “Father called a meeting. We're attacking a pirate nest offshore in a few weeks, so we're putting a plan together. Your mother wanted you to attend, that's how we noticed you were missing.”  
  
    “... Did I get you in trouble?” Auriga sighed, and loosened her grip on the ram's arm a bit.  
  
    “A bit, yeah. They're more mad at you, though.” With undead servants, it was impossible to ask for directions, so the pair of demon-sheep had to find their parents by looking. Something caught Hyden's eye and he pulled against Auriga for a second to get her to stop, then pointed down a hall.  
  
    In front of one of the sub-kitchens stood an undead stag Being, muscular and marked with bronze stripes mixed in with natural brown. Hyden knew that undead, it rarely left his mother's vicinity. Auriga released the ram as they approached the door, her going for it directly, and Hyden going to the undead.  
  
    “Hey, dad,” he said. Hyden moved the stag's arms and clothes around to check for damage. His mother was good on keeping the stag in good condition, but every so often she'd miss something small. Like a chip in the antlers, a tear in the fur, or a scorch mark. Hyden's brief exam revealed no new damages; the undead as always didn't react to the prodding and moving. He hardly noticed that Auriga had knocked and already entered in.  
  
    “Hyden, come grab a mug and have some tea!” Oresse, Hyden's mother waved at him from a table as he came in. She was a ewe, and had similar colors to Auriga, but her dark blue was sweeping and fluid to Auriga's jagged and precise. The only color differences were their hair and eyes: Auriga having blue sclera from her mother, and russet hair, while Oresse had rich green for both. Her belly was swollen with child, and she was dressed in a belted gown decorated with the family namesake gem: bloodstone. In her hands she had a steaming mug of red-brown liquid. The caffeine was obviously helping her mood because she looked positively giddy.  
  
    “Um, no thank you mom,” Hyden slumped into a chair at the table. “I'd rather skip to the part where you yell at me.” Auriga cuffed him in the back of the head. “Hey!” Oresse took a sip from her mug, reached over and similarly cuffed the young ram. “Hey!”  
  
    “Don't take that long-suffering tone with me, Hyden.” His mother's tone was thoroughly cross. “I'm the one who walks around with agonizing back pain for weeks. Anyway, yes you snuck out again without telling anyone, yes there was a moment of panic that passed, don't do it again you'll do it anyway, insert threat to shackle a ball and chain to you here.”  
  
    Hyden blinked. “Um. That wasn't what I was expecting.”  
  
    “I'm not feeling indulgent right now, son. Where were you anyway?”  
  
    “He was visiting Samis Zed's store again,” Auriga spoke up while going to get tea of her own.  
  
    “Not the pawn shop owner? Aww honey, if you have a thing for older women your grandfather has some friends who would love to spend an afternoon with you.” Hyden buried his face in his hands, face burning scarlet. “C'mon you're a teenager now, I understand boys your age have... urges. I mean, it's not like your uncle or I didn't have wacky escapades at your age, and finding love with an older woman is perfectly normal.”  
  
    “I'm not in love with Ms. Zed,” the ram all but shouted. Realizing he'd left his coat and hat on, and that the warmth was making his red face worse. He hastily removed them, using the hat to cover his blush. “I just like seeing the new things she has for sale.”  
  
    “... So, she's for sale is it?”  
  
    “Mom!”  
  
    “Alright, alright. Fine. Whatever. Look, I don't want you going out on your own unless you have someone with you,” Oresse frowned like she was remembering an old argument. “Or you finally pass your uncle's combat test. One or the other, honey.”  
  
    “But Uncle Rayl is a jerk! He doesn't teach anything!” Hyden's face had finally returned to its natural color, and he removed the hat and sat up straight in the chair. Auriga harumphed at the slight against her father, but didn't comment.  
  
    “Then ask your cousins for help. Oh wait, they'll be busy with that pirate thing for the next couple of weeks anyway.” The ewe assumed the thinker pose. “Hmm, I think your grandfather could help, his memory's not as good as it used to be but....” She kept talking, but Hyden tuned her out. It was always like this with his family. They wanted him to do things, but didn't want to have to teach him how, or never had time to help.  
  
    He'd never understand how his uncle had raised eight children with no problem, but couldn't manage to help his nephew any. The only one of his cousins with the patience to explain anything was Auriga, and she was busy enough trying to keep her siblings in line. Oresse snapping her fingers in Hyden's face brought him back to the world, and from the expression on her face, the ram guessed he'd been too obvious in tuning her out.  
  
    “Ugh, look. I'll talk to Father about talking to you, seeing where Rayl and I are messing up at least. Auri, thank you for picking him up with minimal fuss, I'll make sure you're paid overtime rates for this.” The lightning-marked ewe muttered her thanks and left with her mug of tea. Oresse left soon after, complaining that she needed a foot rub. The stag undead followed after her.  
  
    Hyden grabbed himself a snack, and left for his room. Not much left to do today. And he'd need all the energy he could store for his grandfather's undivided attention.  
  
    From what Hyden was hearing secondhand from his cousins in the days following was that his Grandfather was too busy to come help his youngest grandson, which had prompted a screaming match between he and Oresse. One week passed, and the young ram was ready to sneak out to Ms. Zed's shop again while his cousins were busy getting ready for work, and Uncle Rayl was still doing paperwork.  
  
    There was another customer in the shop when he arrived; so the ram amused himself by looking at the new items for sale. The booklet in the glass case was still there, but now had a price tag. An alarmingly high price tag, Hyden found on closer inspection. Ms. Zed had been fine with him getting close to it last week, but in the face of such numbers, the winged ram elected not to push his luck a second time.  
  
    A stately pocketwatch made of steel, depicting a canine demon, wings spread and sword bloody on the cover drew his attention. A bit of magic in the metal, and the affordable price drew Hyden's curiosity. The sucking feeling from his back and sudden slowing of his sensory input drew his attention.  
  
    “And- oh, one second sir. Little demon,” Ms. Zed ambled over to the young ram, and gently took the watch out of Hyden's hands, and put it back on its shelf. “I'm afraid you're a bit young for a Creature-Being amulet. It'll stunt your growth if you use it at this age. Maybe in a few years, hmm?” She smiled, and turned back to the customer she had left. Hyden sighed and started looking again.  
  
    Five minutes later, Hyden volunteered to help the customer get their newly purchased armoire out the door and into their wagon. Not difficult for the ram, even for him the furniture was light as a feather. Ms. Zed seemed appreciative when he returned, at least.  
  
    “Hmm, little demon. Maybe I should give you a job,” said the cat, walking through the aisles checking items and adjusting some that had been moved by the customer. “I might offer an apprenticeship, if your mother would accept.”  
  
    “Mom might not be in the best condition to ask...” Hyden adjusted his collar awkwardly.  
  
    “Oh? Bad raid?”  
  
    “She's, um. Very pregnant.”  
  
    “Ah, say no more. I remember when your mother was pregnant with you, she had quite the mood swings the rumors say. Still, you've been by for weeks, you listen to me tell the stories of these items, rarely buy anything, and I'm not getting any younger. How about it?”  
  
    “I'd love to try,” Hyden replied honestly. “This is the most fun place in town, learning how to run a store like it would be great!” Ms. Zed looked a bit sad, but hid it quickly.  
  
    “Well, I have some books from down south, supposedly penned by an Angel that I need to verify, would you like to learn how to authenticate such books before going home to talk to your mother about it?” The persian cat went behind her desk and pulled up a stack of leather bound tomes, along with a notebook. Hyden eagerly pulled up a stool next to her.  
  
    “Sure, how's it done?”  
  
    “Well we're lucky this time. The Angel who allegedly penned these books is still alive, so we start by going through my pocketbook for his phone number....”  
  
    That evening, when Hyden's head was full of the tricks forgers would play to falsely age books, and of some simple spells to detect them, he tried to propose the idea of the apprenticeship to his mother after the evening meal. Unfortunately, either he spoke too loudly or had timed it wrong...  
  
    “Absolutely not!”  
  
    Because his Uncle Rayl had heard enough to comment on it. Rayl, who was the spitting image of his father at four hundred years old; a well-built ram of green and blue fleece, the blue being in thin lines that followed major tendons on a green base; with the same green eyes and hair as Oresse, but in a shorter, more combat efficient style. His horns ended in metal caps, a requirement of all Bloodstone males while in Vecenstein, and as always dressed in a mix of dinner attire and armored plate.  
  
    “Oresse, you cannot be considering this,” Rayl growled, closing the door to the dining hall quickly before any of his brood decided to eavesdrop. “Hyden is your firstborn, he'll be an example to the newborn and the children to follow; and he wants to be a _merchant_?!”  
  
    “Rayl, brother dear,” Oresse pointedly stepped between Hyden, who had his gaze locked firmly on his shoes, and her brother. “Hyden is my son. You're not his father, you're not my father, you don't get to decide these sort of things for him or me.” Rayl did not back down, instead pushing the shorter sheep demon back a step by the shoulders, huffing and puffing in anger.  
  
    “You're in no state to make decisions, Oresse. Your mind is the plaything of your fool hormones. Where's that new husband you took, he'll sort this out and make you see reason!” Hyden started to rapidly back away as Oresse flared her wings and bared fang on the older ram.  
  
    “Cral is not my owner, Rayl. He can't make me do anything any more than you can. And if you don't back the hell off and let me and my son talk I will rip your wings off _again_ to prove it!” Once more, Rayl did not back down, mirroring Oresse's motions but the more intimidating for his size and aggressive demeanor.  
  
    “Please, don't fight-” Hyden tried to speak up but the enraged glares of his mother and uncle combined focusing on him drove what he was going to say next to a frightened 'meep.' Oresse softened from it, but Rayl pushed passed her to pick Hyden up by his shirt.  
  
    “A merchant?! One of the Bloodstone Demons, butchers of the northern realms, a merchant?!” The bigger ram shook Hyden like he was a ragdoll, and compared to a four hundred-odd old Demon, he might as well have been. “Have you no pride? No ambition? It's that Being woman your mother tells me you're having romantic trysts with, isn't it? I'll have her head on a spike for putting such thoughts in your- urk.”  
  
    Hyden was used to being talked down too, yelled at, and shaken for having 'foolish' ideas. According to Auriga, some were simply to see where his patience ended, where his line in the sand was. Threatening his mother was one thing, even hormonal and pregnant, she was Rayl's older sister and thus proportionally stronger. But threatening Ms. Zed, who never yelled, always had a kind word or a story to tell, who actually explained things to him when he didn't understand pushed a button in Hyden. The younger ram's vision turned to a haze of opaque bronze, and he felt his foot pull back and kick Rayl somewhere squishy that apparently hurt. Hurt a lot.  
  
    Rayl released his nephew, doubling over with a pained snarl, but was not given the time to react. Hyden pulled his foot back and struck in that same spot, again and again, many times in rapid succession each one harder than the last as he put more and more of the urge to cause Rayl pain into the attack. By the time the young ram's vision cleared, Rayl was on the ground, rolling and whining in pain while folding his wings over himself. Oresse looked on, slackjawed.  
  
    An ugly, wheezing laugh filled the air. Hyden turned to see his grandfather coming down the hall with Auriga at his side. Hyden didn't know his grandfather's name, everyone in the family called him Grandfather or Father, depending on relation. The ancient ram was starting to gray at the edges of his hair and fleece, but physically still powerful. “There,” the patriarch said, holding hands up to clap Hyden on the shoulders, “is the grandson I have waited fourteen years to see!” Hyden didn't react, stunned that his grandfather seemed happy to see him for the first time in his life. “And took Rayl by surprise, not bad at all. Oresse, you and your boy can go finish your talk if you like.” Grandfather strode past the younger Demons, grabbed Rayl by the horns, and kept walking. “Rayl and I need to speak some.”  
  
    Oresse herded Hyden down the hall, casting a look to Auriga that the younger ewe didn't acknowledge. When they were two hallways away the ewe hugged her son, and was smiling when she let him go. “I'm so proud of you.”  
  
    “That I didn't let Uncle Rayl push me around?” Hyden felt a bit lightheaded from the energy expenditure, so leaned on a nearby wall.  
  
    “Well yes that. But more that you managed to kick him in the crotch thirty-seven times.” Oresse took on a nostalgic expression and sighed. “Your father only managed twenty when Rayl first tried pushing him around. I'm sure he'd be proud too.” The young ram noted that the stag undead hadn't been anywhere during dinner, or the fight, and looked around for it.  
  
    “Where is dad, anyway?”  
  
    “Hmm? Oh I had it stay in my chambers dusting and scrubbing the crib. Just brought it out of storage this morning.”  
  
    “Storage? You're using my old crib?” Oresse looked scandalized, and shook her head emphatically.  
  
    “Oh heavens no, honey. You were positively sedate as a baby. This little monster,” she rubbed her belly affectionately at that, “is a full Demon. No, I had to find the crib Rayl used for his kids, it's enchanted iron so the baby can't chew through the bars.”  
  
    “Isn't that bad for its teeth?”  
  
    “No, it sharpens them. We had to use a file on yours because you wouldn't bite at anything until you were two.” Hyden smiled awkwardly, while Oresse smoothed out her fleece from where it had stood on end during her confrontation with Rayl. “Anyway, this merchant business.” Dread creeped into the ram's heart when he heard her use the 'business' voice. Cold, impartial, revealing nothing about her intentions. “I don't mind if you take some lessons, but I cannot agree to a full apprenticeship. You're too young, and with your combat ability, we'd have to ask Auriga to seriously cut into her work hours to watch you, and that's not fair to her. Though,” she smiled conspiratorially, “given your little display a few minutes ago, I think you could get Rayl to actually teach you how to fight some. Father's still too busy, I'm afraid.  
  
    “So train a bit, wait a couple of years, strong arm Rayl into teaching you something, and I'll let you become Samis' apprentice, if she's still alive by then. Sound like a deal?”  
  
    Hyden didn't try to hide how disappointed he felt, but he was not skilled with the 'adorable eyes' technique, so it had no effect on the Demon-ewe. “Yeah, I guess that's okay.”  
  
    “I know it doesn't seem like it, honey, but this is for the best. We wouldn't want an off the leash adventurer putting you to the sword, would we?”  
  
    “Dad was an adventurer....”  
  
    “Your father,” the ewe looked downcast for a moment, “was one of the good ones. The ones who stop and think before stabbing someone. Those aren't common anymore, for good reason.” The two were quiet for a moment, mourning the stag they both saw on a regular basis. “My decision stands. Now it's getting late, you should go to bed.” The ewe pulled Hyden in for a hug, that he didn't fight against. “Goodnight, honey.”  
  
    “Night mom.”  
  
    Life continued for Hyden much as it had before for the remainder of the week. Pay loose attention to his tutors, avoid his uncle's side of the family like the plague, and check up on the stag undead that had been his father once a day. When Sunday grew near, the ram seriously considered not going to Ms. Zed's shop, to tell her the bad news. But when Sunday came, Hyden found Auriga in full kit waiting for him outside his room.  
  
    “You are going to the store,” she said in a tone that left no room for argument. “You will tell her your mothers decision, and you will abide by it. You will have one hour to spend with her however you wish, and then you will return here to your room for the remainder of the day.”  
  
    “What's going on?” Hyden's ears were flat against his head, knowing there was something wrong with this situation.  
  
    “My father has pushed the raid of the pirate base to today. Your mother has gone to visit your stepfather and his family in the countryside and will not return for two days. I am to be your babysitter until she returns, or Grandfather has time to deal with you. My workload has tripled with so many of my bloodline gone to battle, and I will not have you adding to the problems.” She sighed seeing the younger ram try to withdraw into his tunic under her unblinking stare. “Tomorrow, when my siblings are back, I will have more time to watch you. If my father does not need me for much, perhaps I can teach you some hand-to-hand fighting. Now grab your coat, and let's go.”  
  
    Auriga walked with Hyden to Ms. Zed's shop, giving the young Demon an even wider radius of Being-avoidance. It was much earlier than he usually went, not even ten in the morning yet. He had to slow down so that they'd be there when Ms. Zed was opening the store, which Auiga did not comment on if she noticed. Even with the slowness, Ms. Zed was still fumbling with the store keys when they arrived.  
  
    “Hyden, you're here early,” she commented lightly. The cat gave Auriga a look out of the corner of her eye. “And you brought a... friend with a sword.”  
  
    “This is my cousin, Auriga. She's going to be watching me today,” Hyden told her, trying to put some pep into his voice. “I can only stay an hour though, she has to work.”  
  
    “Hmm? A pity.” The store's door opened, and Ms. Zed let Hyden and Auriga enter in, and start to turn on the lights. “Brr, frigid in the mornings. Hyden, I trust you to not let your cousin steal anything while I get the heater started.” The cat went to the back of the store, leaving to two sheep alone.  
  
    “I will be back in one hour,” Auriga huffed, and went for the door. “Do not leave until I arrive for you.” Hyden stuck his tongue out at her back as she left. Ms. Zed enlisted the ram's help in placing price tags on the week's worth of new loot, mostly small stuff. Baubles, knives, a silver picture frame only slightly tarnished.  
  
    “Mom said no to the apprenticeship,” Hyden blurted out when it was clear Ms. Zed wasn't going to push it. “She said I'm too young and not good enough of a fighter.”  
  
    “Hmm,” was the cat's reply. “The too young thing I can understand. But little demon, why does she think you're a poor fighter?” The ram looked down at his feet, kicking them in his chair.  
  
    “I'm only a half-demon, my dad was a Being.”  
  
    “Yes I know, little demon. What else?” He looked up, alarmed and gave her a confused look. “I knew Sebur when he was alive, everyone knew him, he was the talk of the taverns for a year when he married old Bloodstone's daughter. It's why I call you little demon, and not little Demon.”  
  
    “But... I... there's no difference?”  
  
    “Well not one you'd see, I suppose. Now, what else?”  
  
    “Well... I guess it's because Uncle Rayl just goes on and on over how weak I am compared to his kids. And how I shouldn't have problems doing things, rather than explaining what I'm doing wrong.”  
  
    “Your uncle has other children? Why don't they help?”  
  
    “Auriga's the only one with the patience for me, and she's always busy. My other cousins are kind of mean, they hit me a lot.”  
  
    “And your mother allows that, does she?” Ms. Zed hadn't changed her tone from the polite conversational one she'd started with, but there was something different. Like the cat was forcing the tone, rather than letting it just be.  
  
    “They say they're sorry after... and Mom's usually busy too, doing work for the Duke. She's only home so much now because she's pregnant. When Dad was around....” Ms. Zed reached over and patted Hyden on the shoulder.  
  
    “I understand.” They worked a bit longer, until all the items were priced and tagged, whereupon Ms. Zed pushed the items aside on her desk and gave Hyden a serious look. “Do you want to stay with them?”  
  
    “What?”  
  
    “Do you want to stay with your family? Given how they're treating you.” It was like Ms. Zed had started to vomit newspaper-wrapped fish. A situation so bizarre that the ram stopped trying to process it for a second.  
  
    “They're my family-”  
  
    “Family doesn't hit you and pretend to be sorry, family doesn't make you feel like a burden, family doesn't stonewall your growth because of who your father was. You've bought and read enough books from this store in the past six years to know that, little demon.” The cat was incensed. Her fur poofing out slightly and her claws showing on her hands.  
  
    “What's with you, Ms. Zed? You've never acted this angry over the stuff my family does...”  
  
    “An old woman can put up with stories of chronic cruelty for only so long, little demon. Do you want to stay with them?” The idea of up and.. leaving the family. Sure, they were jerks and he hadn't actually been all that happy since his father died...  
  
    “I don't want to talk about this, Ms. Zed.”  
  
    “No one does, little demon. It still needs to be dealt with.” The cat sighed and relaxed. “But you're not going to give me an honest answer in this state. Your hour's nearly up, so your cousin will be here soon... I just want you to know, you can come here if things at home get too bad.” Hyden nodded, stood, and gathered his hat and coat. “Little demon?”  
  
    “I'll see you next week, Ms. Zed,” the ram said quickly, leaving the store before his coat was all the way on. He had to get away from the cat, from the question of wanting to stay or not. He couldn't leave the family, that was... that was wrong! Family stuck together, even if they made each other miserable... right? “Can't leave. Who will take care of dad? Who'll keep those jerks from hurting the new baby?” Hyden muttered to himself. Pulling on his coat and hat as the cold from the outside struck him.  
  
    He made it back to the house just as Auriga was getting ready to pick him up, and endured a heated lecture from her about the dangers of random adventurers in the streets knocking arrows at him as he passed. He wasn't subtle about tuning her out, and earned a cuff on the back of the head for his effort. The question 'do you want to stay?' hounded at him despite his wanting it to go away, as he sat in his room reading books that told stories of the lands in the distant south. Where families were warm and happy, and adventurers saved people from the horrible monsters.  
  
    Rayl and his brood returned near dinner, victorious in their raid and demanding food and booze for their effort. With dinner being so close, Hyden left his room and went off to his mother's chamber to see if she'd left Hyden's father behind. Would be rather silly to bring the corpse of your ex-husband to visit your current one, the ram assumed. He was right, the stag was standing near the closet, without moving.  
  
    “Hey dad,” the ram said, fussing over the state of the undead. When he was done, he looked up to the eyes... nonreflective black. “You'd want me to stay, right? You stayed.” He'd also been a veteran adventurer, able to kick Rayl twenty times in the groin without demon strength or speed, but Hyden tried not to remember that. “You wouldn't want me to go away... right?”  
  
    “Aww, lookit brother. Hyden's having a touching moment with his mom's furniture.” The ram tried hard not to bristle at the voice of one of his cousins. Seross, the second youngest of Rayl's brood, never far away from the youngest, Asir. The blue present in their father's fleece replaced by red from their mother, their horns more similar to gazelle than sheep. Hyden didn't turn to face them, electing to pat dust off the undead's green clothes.  
  
    “What's the matter, cousin,” the voice of the older-by-only-six-months Asir said as he approached. “Not feeling chatty?”  
  
    “Get out of my mom's room,” Hyden snarled quietly.  
  
    “Aww come now, cousin. That's not a very friendly tone. We're just wondering about your mental health given you're talking to dead people.” The slightly older ram reached over Hyden and flicked the stag in the neck with a claw, tearing the skin slightly. Hyden rushed up to reach the tear, pouring magic into the wound to mend it quickly. “See, you're getting a bit obsessive with this one.”  
  
    “Get out.”  
  
    “Alright fine, but you're coming with us. I'll get his legs, brother.” Sure enough, Asir crouched down and grabbed Hyden by the calves while Seross pinned his wings and arms to his chest with a bear hug. The two older Demons lugged the squirming and snarling Hyden out of the room, with Seross flippantly kicking the door shut.  
  
    “Let me go, jerks!”  
  
    “Aww, but cousin,” Seross started in a false hurt tone. “We've been meaning to chat with you.”  
  
    “You've had all week to talk to me!”  
  
    “Nah, see big sis has been keeping us busy. But right now she's taking a nap, so we can have a short,” Seross squeezed until Hyden had to start gasping for breath, “but intense conversation, right brother?”  
  
    “Sure thing,” Asir nodded in agreement. “Open this door,” he told an undead servant, who stopped polishing a decorative vase to open a storage room door for him. “Return to your routine,” and so it did. The two older Demons chucked the younger into the room and entered themselves, Seross closing the door behind him.  
  
    Hyden had been on the receiving end of a few mean spirited smacks and kicks in his time, but had never been beaten up. So when the punches and stomps started to rain from his cousins, he had no idea what to do other than curl up and snap at one of their feet when that didn't work.  
  
    “Ouch!” Asir shouted, hopping on his good foot, while applying healing magic to the bleeding one. “Jerk drew blood!”  
  
    “Yeah, that stops little Hyden,” said Seross, flaring his wings menacingly. “First you kick our dad when he tells you how stupid you're being, then you bite my brother when he generously tries teaching you a lesson in _humility_ ,” Seross kicked Hyden hard in the ribs then, baring fang and sending the younger ram skidding into the wall, then turning to Asir like the other was a wizened philosopher. “I think the little freak needs a stronger lesson in humility. What do you say, brother?”  
  
    “Well, we could burn up that undead he likes so much. I think it was his dad? Would help Aunt Oresse move on too, not having to look at it every day, right?” No, Hyden thought. They wouldn't.  
  
    “Hmm, but auntie would get mad with the destruction of her undead. What about that Being woman he goes to see every week?”  
  
    “Oh yeah. Beings are everywhere in this town, they'd never miss an old one that owns some shanty. Let's go burn her up and her house too.”  
  
    “Sounds like a plan, brother.” Seross grinned malevolently down at Hyden, who seemed stunned at the notion. “Don't go anywhere, cousin. We'll be sure to bring you what's left.”  
  
    They're going to kill her, Hyden thought. And no one else in the family would care enough to stop them. He couldn't let them do it, he had to stop them. It hurt to stand up, as they were going to the door, but he did. He couldn't rush them both, he'd have to hit them with magic, one of his better, but still bad, skills.  
  
    Hyden's vision turned once more to the bronze haze, as light grew in the small room. The two older rams turned back to look, curious, as one thought filled Hyden's mind to the exclusion of all else:  
  
    **BURN**  
      
    The resulting explosion knocked all three youngsters unconscious.  
  
    Hyden woke nauseous, rolling onto his side to dry heave.  A hand patted him on the back while he retched.  “Easy there, little demon,” said a familiar voice softly.  
  
    “Ms. Zed?”  The ram croaked, then clamped his mouth down on another retch.  
  
    “Yes… and no.  I’m getting you out of here, little demon.”  Hands guided him to his feet, Hyden briefly acknowledged the blurs of color that comprised his vision as his bedroom.  “Up ya get.”  A portion of a bat wing came into his view; causing Hyden to try jerking away from the person helping him up, and fall onto his bed again.  “Come on, little demon, we have to work fast.”  
  
    His vision clearing, Hyden managed to get a look at the other person.  A white-furred feline, yes.  But gone were the wrinkles, squashed face, or pale hair that Hyden knew to associate with Ms. Zed, replaced with a vivacious figure in the matronly clothes, a leonine face, and pink hair.  Bat wings extended from her back; a mix of black and pink, a second, smaller pair resting among her hair.  Her eyes were the same shade of pink as her hair; and seemed to glow of their own accord.  Hyden noticed by this glow and the moonlight coming in that it was night. “Y-you’re not Ms. Zed,” the ram said, trying to scoot away.  
  
    “I told you,” the cat said with Ms. Zed’s voice.  “I am, and I’m not.  You’re injured, we need to get you out of here,” she grabbed his arm with the hand that had previously been missing fingers.  Hyden tried to get away, and shout but he retched instead.  “There isn’t time, we need to go, now.”  The world outside of him and the cat started to darken.  For a moment, the ram nearly passed out, but a shake from the cat drove it away.  “Damn, the sleep spell they had you under is still trying to work through.”  
  
    “Who… who are you?”  The darkness was lifting, revealing the Ms. Zed’s shop.  Hyden was seated in the armchair Ms. Zed usually reserved for herself.  The cat quickly released him, and went around the store, picking up random items and ignoring his question.  An attempt to stand resulted in vertigo, and stumbling into a shelf.  
  
    “Damnit, don’t try walking,” the cat brought her armfull of items to the table between the armchair and the lesser chair Hyden usually sat in.  “Just one last thing, and we should be good to go.”  The feline left again, and returned with the glass case that contained the Ti’baltr booklet, before dragging Hyden back to the chair.  
  
    “Who are you?”  The ram said, trying to snarl but almost truly vomiting for the effort.  There was magic at work in him, he was now awake enough to know.  Two spells of opposite effects trying to neutralize the other, and making him sick from their fight.  
  
    “If it will make you feel better, my name is Isarra.  I posed as the person you knew as Samis Zed,” and here the cat glared at Hyden while arranging the items she had plucked from her shelves in a seemingly random arrangement, “whom I did not murder because she died of natural causes fifteen years ago, I will show you the death certificate if I need to.  I’m a spy for the Ti’baltr Trading Company.”  
  
    Hyden stopped and blinked for a few minutes, in which the headwinged feline shoved the  
glass case into his lap.  The baubles on the table shone yellow for a moment, then returned to their normal state.  “What?”  
  
    “It’s a ward array, so your family can’t just barge in here,” the cat explained as if that was obviously what the ram had been inquiring about.  
  
    “No, I mean… why would you spy on Vecenstein of all places?”  
  
    “It’s a safe harbor in the northern realms, Ti’baltr’s interested in getting a trading outpost up here.  But that’s not important right now,” Isarra, if that was really her name, took the case back, opened it up, and took the booklet out while sitting in Hyden’s usual chair.  “We need to hurry and fill this out for you.”  
  
    “...What?!”  The ram immediately regretted yelling as he felt at least four different kinds of woozy.  “I.. what?”  
  
    “Oh right, it’s been a couple of days that they kept you asleep.”  The feline took the peacock feather quill, and uncapped the vial of golden ink.  “The explosion you made set part of your house on fire.”  
  
    “What?”  
  
    “Let me finish.  It set part of your house on fire and your cousins from what I learned are seriously hurt.  Your uncle, I think it was your uncle anyway, wanted to have you killed for what you did, your mother and he had a rather big fight over it.  The stress put her into early labor, and your grandfather had to be summoned from the Duke’s castle to stabilize the situation.”  It was like one drawn out ‘bad news’ option.  The ram gaped at the cat, unable to formulate a response.  “Your mother has been moved to the Great Hospital in the capital, along with your cousins.  They put you under a sleep spell so you wouldn’t cause any more trouble.”  
  
    “Mom won’t let him hurt me.”  The ram watched as the cat started rapidly writing in the booklet.  “Why are you doing that?  Didn’t you say you work for Ti’baltr already?”  
  
    “I’m not filling it out for me, I’m doing it for you.  What’s your mother’s name?  Oresse, right.”  She continued to write, dipping the quill in the gold ink every so often.  “The thing is, the town decided it didn’t want Demons in it anymore, and they called a meeting.  Since I was playing the role of Samis, I listened in on their plans.”  She looked sadly at the ram before returning to the booklet.  “They’re going to mob the house tonight.  That’s why I stole in to get you out, you’d be killed for sure.”  
  
    “The… they’re going to mob my family?”  The cat nodded, continuing to work while images of the great hall being broken down, family members crushing the intruders with vicious glee filled his mind.  “I don’t think that’s going to end well for them.”  
  
    “It might, or it might not.  They’ve got adventurers leading this mob.  And the mayor’s men too.  With so many of the big wigs in your family gone to the Great Hospital, I don’t know how well your family will do.”  Hyden, still feeling awful, tried to stand again.  “Stop doing that,” the cat’s wing formed into a long leathery tentacle and pushed him back into the chair.  
  
    “I have to warn them, let them know.”  
  
    “You have to do no such thing.  What you have to do is sign here, and let me get you safely out of here.”  
  
    “I can’t just leave them,” the ram shouted.  Not caring if he felt sick anymore.  “I can’t just say I didn’t even try to help them!”  His father would be so disappointed in him if he did.  
  
    “I know it feels like that, little demon.”  And the cat sounded like she meant it.  “But there isn’t time for heroics.”  She stood, grabbed the demon by the arm, and stretched it out.  The tentacle from earlier swiped along his hand, opening a bleeding wound which the feline pressed to a page in the booklet.  “There, the signed in blood clause forgoes the signature.”  
  
    “Ow!  Why are you doing this?”  Hyden pulled on the arm, getting the strength to yank it out of her grip a second later.  
  
    “Because you need to get out of here before this bloodbath starts.  I’m sorry,” she closed the booklet, which started to glow the same shade of gold as the ink she had used, “but I’d rather you be upset with me for giving you no choice than yourself for making one.”  
  
    “You-”  
        
    “Sleep,” the cat waved her hand, trailing yellow energy from her fingers, and Hyden drifted off once again, cursing her as he went.    
  
    _The town ablaze.  People running through the streets to be chased down and consumed by the grinning army of mini-Rayls.  Auriga yelling at how she was too busy counting the cobblestones in the road to help Hyden with the sixty newborns his mother had brought home.  Grandfather calling a meeting to announce he had figured out how to make himself permanently invisible.  Ms. Zed peeling her own face off._  
  
    Hyden’s dreams were not pleasant.  When he woke from them, the ram was relieved to see them end, before taking in his surroundings.  He was on an alarmingly soft bed, one that seemed filled with… water?  He poked it a few times, and confirmed it was definitely filled with liquid of some kind.    
  
    The room he was in was wood; but of a different sort than he was used to.  The wood was paler, with stripes of dark in it; and assembled in a style he had never seen.  The windows of the room were glass, clear at the middle and base, but with a circle of colored glass at the top in the same arrangement as had been on the cover of the Ti’baltr application: A gold canine Demon, a silver mouse Angel, and a bronze ferret Being overlapping.    
  
    There was a faint swaying to the room, and Hyden could faintly hear the cry of gulls.  ‘I’m on a boat,’ he realized.  ‘A Ti’baltr boat.’  The memories of his talk with the person who had pretended to be Ms. Zed came back.  ‘She had wings on her head… a succubus?’  Cubi, a race similar to Angels and Demons, but focused on deception and shapeshifting where the other two focused on power.  The ram couldn’t remember much of their abilities; there were too many contradicting legends.  
  
    ‘I have to get back home, maybe the town saw reason.’  He didn’t really believe it, but he had to get back.  He had to at least try to stop the slaughter before it started.  His long ears swiveled at a sound, footsteps approaching the intricately carved door.  Flicking out his own claws, and prepping a fireball to hurl at the first provocation, Hyden climbed from the bed, with a bit of difficulty, and advanced.  
  
    When he opened the door, a surprised looking bespectacled llama and a canine, their colors marking them as Beings, and both dressed in livery of blue and bronze.  “I want off of this boat, and no one is going to stop me.”  
  
    The two Beings shared a look, and shrugged.  “Fine by me,” said the dog in a heavily twanged accent.  
  
    “If you’re well enough to walk and make threats, I assume you can make your own decisions,” said the llama, also in the accent.  They both stood aside, letting Hyden walk out into a hall of similar doors.  He moved not to let his back be to them, until he could find the stairs.  He passed other Beings of various species that all bore what the ram assumed was Ti’baltr livery, none of them tried to stop him as he found the stairs, and made his way up.  
  
    ‘I guess this is working,’ he thought as he went.  ‘I’ll go up to the deck, swim to shore, and make my way back to town.  This should be easy!’  And reach the deck he did.  For a ship, it was remarkably low on men scrubbing decks or tending the sails from what he’d read.  The ones up there gave him a quick look before returning to their routine.  Sensing something amiss in their not considering him a flight risk, Hyden cautiously approached the rail…  
  
    And looked out on an endless field of blue as far as his eyes could see in every direction.  The ram stared at this featureless plain of water.  No clouds in the sky, no fish in the water.  Just still blue water.  How long had he been asleep?  How far away from home was he?!  
  
    “You look confused.”  Hyden was starting to suspect everyone on the ship had the twanged accent, when another voice started speaking with it, from his side.  Sitting on the rail, as if he had been there from the start was a ferret.  Hair, eyes, and fur all differing shades of brown.  Wearing what Hyden would consider frighteningly thin pants, shirt, and an open coat all made of shiny fabric.  
  
    “Um… yeah.  Confused is a word I would use.”  
  
    “Weird accent you got there, boy,” the ferret grinned bearing impressively sharp teeth.  “Well if you have questions, I’m the man to answer them.”  He held out his tiny, relative to Hyden’s, hand for shaking.  “I’m the captain of this here boat.  Domino Ti’balt.  Welcome aboard.”


	2. Captain, My Captain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Captain Domino Ti'balt didn't want to play a hero. But he was just too nice for his own good.

**Chapter 2- Captain, My Captain**

  
    It had been a perfectly normal run.  Pick up cargo, deliver cargo, ensure the paperwork was all signed and dotted where needed.  Not exactly open-heart surgery.  The crew of the Harridan had been looking forward to a simple run, they had been on an alarming number of special missions recently, and it was viewed as a time to unwind.  
  
    The Harridan was a three masted brig serving in the fleet of the Ti’baltr trading company.  She was one of fourteen ships that had been given rust-proof steel armor on her sides, enchanted sails and rudders, and even the experimental steam engines and paddlewheels imported from Ha’khun.  In short, she was a fast, strong, and vicious old biddy of a ship; hence her name.  The main use for her in the fleet: Loss prevention.  
  
    This meant she and her crew would be informed of raids on the transport fleet, use the tracking charms to find the stolen cargo, raid the raiders, and retrieve it before it was sold on the black market.  To facilitate this, her crew was drawn from the same ranks as a ship of the line would have.  Creatures, ex-adventurers, mages, war veterans.  Naturally, after so many such missions in succession, a break was key to the mental health of the crew.  
  
    That was why the Harridan’s captain, Domino Ti’balt, was seriously considering ignoring the distress beacon pinging and blinking on the magical globe in his quarters.  Ister Union, Borovec Duchy, Vecenstein.  As far out of the way as one could be without hitting the polar cap.  Even being days away at full sail, the Harridan was the closest ship to the beacon.  
  
    Domino, a ferret, was not especially kind.  Or merciful.  Or compassionate.  Were his ship not so close, he wouldn’t even be considering taking the rescue mission.  But the facts were that it was, and he had to chose whether he wanted to put his crew at risk, and save the citizen in distress.  
  
    Pacing the captain’s cabin, the ferret considered what to do.  Going would make the cargo late, which would reduce the Company’s profit for the delivery to near-zero.  But leaving a citizen to die would instigate a blood feud with their murderer, and he’d likely have to partake in the purge to follow.  
  
    The captain’s cabin of the Harridan was a self-contained apartment suite.  The main room housing the bed, chest of drawers, changing screen, dining table and chairs, along with a variety of magical implements that no one but Domino and the Second Officer knew how to operate.  One of which was the enchanted globe that let all captains of the Ti’baltr navy know of all distress beacon activations across the globe.  
  
    Sighing, the ferret rubbed his face, frustrated by the decision becoming clearer in his mind.  “I better get shore leave for this,” he grumbled knowing full well he wouldn’t get any and went to his chest of drawers.  Sized down for his short stature, an elegant piece of Ti’baltr woodworking.  Woodworking was some of their finest craft, given the centuries of use.  On top of the dresser was the phone; a rotary dial with each number assigned to a region of the ship.  The dial itself set into an orb stuffed in the mouth of a decapitated dragon head, while a ferret held the receiver over his head in victory.  
  
    Dialing ‘two’ Domino waited for the Second Officer to pick up.  “Yes, captain?”  Came the cool and controlled voice of Urd Canora, ex-adventurer, bat, and consummate professional.  Years of proper college education had robbed the poor girl of her rightful Ti’baltr accent.  She sounded like one of those flat-voiced people in Kebre.  Poor thing.  
  
    “Calling an officer’s meeting, get everyone together would ya?  Get on the horn with files and records, get us the file on the Company’s agent in Vecenstein.”  
  
    “Of course, captain.  Will there be anything else?”  
  
    “Do remember your Company mandated two minutes of smiling during the meeting, that will be all.”  
  
    “Of course, sir.”  Hanging up the phone, Domino picked it back up and dialed the helm, instructing them to go full sail, north northeast of the current position.  The helmsman didn’t comment on the change of heading beyond a tired sigh.  Domino understood the tiredness.  He was tired too.  
  
    Still, with an officer’s meeting, and a rescue mission likely, there was only one thing Domino could do to prepare: Gussy up.  The position of Captain, in the Ti’baltr navy was strangely precarious.  Particularly when so many Creatures were used for marines abroad.  More than one Demon had tried to use their superior might to mutiny.  More than one had come close to succeeding.  In some ways, the Captain was a figurehead, having no authority over the day-to-day running of his ship unless a dispute between officers emerged.  In other ways, the Captain was vital; keeping morale up, inspiring the young officers to stay with the Navy long enough to become old officers, and keeping the enlisted personnel happily motivated.  
  
    The best way to do all of those things was to appear as a reasonable authority figure to the enlisted personnel, but a puppet to the officers.  In Domino’s case, he implied more than once to other officers that he consulted Urd on strategy and policy; neither of which were true.  For his efforts, any ambitious members of his crew saw him as a fop spouting the daring and cunning plans of Ms. Canora, who was protected from any failures by his existence.  
  
    So the ferret played up the fop angle in public, wearing expensive shiny silk clothes, putting extreme care into his fur and hair, wearing a ring on each finger, fancy belts with prominent buckles.  A fancy hat with an ostrich feather, and an enchanted choker; things like that.  Aside from the seemingly decorative cutlass at his side, he would appear non-threatening to anything short of a gaudy Cubi.  Which is why he usually had Urd talk with those.  
  
    Speaking of, while Domino was behind his changing screen rubbing sandalwood oil into his fur, his door opened and closed rapidly.  “That you, Urd?”  
  
    “Yes, sir,” said her disembodied voice.  “I have the file you requested, shall I read it, or do you require assistance?”  
  
    “I’d like your opinion on shirt color before we begin, actually.”  The ferret leaned out from behind the screen, holding two silk shirts over one arm.  “Dusty pink or lilac?”  
  
    “Pink.  The others are likely to react negatively to the change in mission parameters, the pink will help keep them from focusing aggression at you.”  
  
    “Righto, pink it is.”  Domino went back behind the screen, and finished getting dressed, hopping out minutes later trying to get his shoe on properly.  “Talk to me.”  
  
    Urd had the papers from the file laid out on the table, and Domino’s footstool in position for the ferret to hop up.  Urd was a mix of cool, cadet, and blue-grays; the cool gray being her base fur color, with cadet gray coloring the webbing along her arms and between her fingers, and blue gray on her bat wings protruding from her shoulders, and her braided hair.  Dressed in a strapless bodice and dress of steel gray with shoots of cold at the edges, one could believe her to be a moderately conservative Demon.  
  
    Unless, like Domino, one knew the significance of the pale yellow symbol on the back of her left calf.  “The agent in Vecenstein is a succubus,” Urd dutifully supplied.  “Isarra Que’tnar, about eight hundred years old, employed in the Ti’baltr Trading Company since its inception in various departments.  Currently working with Division Three as a deep-cover operative.”  Domino examined the pages, and the provided image of her base form; a white cat with pink hair, eyes, and black-and-pink bat wings.  A segment of white fur with the sunflower yellow symbol of clan Que’tnar, a mix of a starburst and a heart shape, was attached to her profile.  Apparently the mark was located under her bust, left of the sternum.  
  
    “Combat rating?”  
  
    “Medium; her skills lie in ambushing.  She’s marked as an infiltration expert through use of innate shapeshifting powers.  Her magical talents lie in warding, and utility functions.”  
  
    “Que’tnar… could she have relapsed into their kidnapping ways?”  
  
    “Unlikely; she agreed to not engage in such activity without a writ from a Ti’baltr circuit judge or higher.  Violating that would put her in breach of contract.”  Domino whistled lowly.  
  
    In Ti’baltr, money was everywhere from the vast trade empire they had built.  With Creatures that could potentially live for thousands of years, what worth was money?  To them, what mattered was their reputation, their social standing in relation to their friends, and in rare cases, their honor.  The stigma from breaking a contract lasted longer than most Beings lived.  Businesses wouldn’t trust you to pay your monthly bills, and were just as likely to stop services altogether as raise your rates.  Employers wouldn’t be able to hire as many employees as they’d like, because the employees wouldn’t feel safe.  
  
    In short, being in breach of contract in Ti’baltr was a very good way to end up homeless and friendless.  
  
    “So, she got a warp-aci?”  
  
    “No.”  
  
    “Wonderful.”  Domino checked a map provided with the file, the Duchy of Borovec was there depicted, with Isarra’s location in Vecenstein marked, along with a dot closer to the Kebre border, in the mountains.  “Her safehouse is rather far inland.”  
  
    “Yes, pirates frequent the coast.”  
  
    “Wonderful.  You’ve summoned a new warp-aci, right?  Lead a shore party to pick her up, and bring her back.  I’ll guide the ship near Vecenstein, the entrance to the fjord.  Here,” he indicated the spot he intended.  “We’ll set anchor down there.  That way we’re close enough to Vecenstein to ward off pirates, but we’re far enough from it that their forces won’t reach us before we leave.”  
  
    “And if they have forces prepared already?”  
  
    “Then we’ve unfortunately lost much of our freshwater supply to an accident and need to pay an excessively high price to buy it from Vecenstein.”  Urd nodded approval, reached down and adjusted the captain’s hat a bit for a slightly more disheveled look..  
  
    “I will leave for the meeting then, see you in a few minutes.”  The bat left, leaving Domino to search about for his spritz bottle.  Finding it, the ferret quickly poured in a small amount of wine, opened his mouth and spritzed into his throat three times.  Swallowing, then breathing on his hand to confirm that faint hint of booze smell, the ferret trotted off to the meeting.  
  
    Days later, the Harridan was in the subarctic.  Anchored off the fjord that was the main access to Vecenstein, her crew had not been disturbed by either pirates or Unionists.  Positively dull for a rescue mission.  Domino didn’t like it, not one bit.  Too easy, too quiet, too many ways it could go sideways.  While Urd and her shore party were away retrieving the lost spy, the ferret spent his days taking on her duties.  Patrolling the deck, keeping the bosun in line, fixing minor damages before they became major issues.  
  
    Waiting for the situation to explode in his face.  
  
    On the second day after Urd’s departure, he started to grow worried, and took a seat on the small balcony near the front of the ship, which circled around where the figurehead of the Harridan.  
  
    She was an enraged angel.  A monstrous demon.  A terrible goddess of hate and bloody vengeance.  Depicted as a Mer, mouth wide to display fangs that Domino didn’t know if the race actually possessed, flipper hands spread wide while the smaller hands reached out to the viewer as if to strangle them.  Her expression frozen in absolute fury.  The artist had composed her of different wood types to mimic the Mer she had modeled colors, using expensive redwood and ebony greatly.  
  
    The figurehead was quite definitively the Harridan enshrined.  And to Domino, she was beautiful.  When he had first started as her captain, he would spend most of his free time staring at her.  Keeping to her maintenance himself, something he still occasionally did.  Covered in furs to stave off the cold air, he did so again.  Remembering old times to distract him from the present.  
  
    “Hey, shortstuff,” came a cheery voice with the slightly off twang of a colonist.  Domino tore his eyes away from the Harridan to  see a tall-legs canine Being stepping down to the balcony.  Third officer Zoos Yelmo, a blond haired tan-furred dog who in a proper warm climate favored vests with no shirt, short pants, and open sandals.  At the moment, he was also decked out in Ti’baltr livery patterned winter furs, but with his hood down and carrying his flintlock rifle as a staff.  
  
    A prize from the great war games between Ti’baltr and its continental rival Kebre, Zoos had successfully made a long-distance shot that had struck the flagman on Kebre’s command vessel.  The chaos from the misunderstood orders had won Ti’baltr the games, and earned the dog his magic rifle that could never ever miss a shot.  The dog’s blue eyes were alight with mischief, prompting Domino to suspect the deck hands were about to enact a prank of some sort.  
  
    “Mr. Yelmo, it is far too cold for flattery,” Domino informed him in a mock chastising tone.  “And in front of my wife no less, have you no shame?”  
  
    “None whatsoever sir.  I am known throughout the crew for my complete lack of shame.  My poor religious mother is so disappointed in me for not begging forgiveness for how awful a person I am to be shameless.”  
  
    “You forget I’ve met your poor religious mother and know she’s prone to wandering her house naked so how can she be ashamed of you for being shameless when she herself is shameless?”  
  
    “She’s ashamed of me because I had no shame in charging the neighborhood boys to see her wander the house naked, good sir.”  
  
    “I do declare, that is indeed exceedingly shameless.”  Zoos had almost distracted Domino enough that he didn’t see some of the junior enlisted personnel sneak to the overlook of the balcony from the deck with a tub of snow, ready to dump it over onto him.  
  
    A flick of his mitten-clad hand, and a gust of icy wind struck the junior officers, sending them tumbling to the other side of the overlook and accidentally spilling the tub on Zoos.  “Ackpth!”  
  
    “Ho there, gents,” Domino called dramatically.  “Do I need to assign you to deck swabbing so that you maintain your sea legs?”  The poor enlisted men and women scattered like bats at night.  
  
    “Using magic to avoid it is cheating,” Zoos complained as he dug himself out of the snow.  
  
    “Using the deck hands to deliver the prank is also cheating,” Domino chuckled, not bothering to help the dog escape the powdery mound.  “Any news from the crow’s nest?”  
  
    “Black smoke coming from Vecenstein,” Zoos’ tone shifted from amused to serious.  “A lot of it.  There’s blood in the water coming out from the fjord.  We should move away.”  
  
    “Indeed?  We will give Urd and her party until dusk to return, and then move out to the ocean.  Double the intensity of the flood lights, I want them to know where we are for drop off.”  
  
    “Understood sir,” the dog extracted himself, and went back to the deck proper.  Domino, left to his own devices returned to staring at the figurehead.  
  
    “You thought I’d missed that, didn’t you,” he asked of the wooden artiface.  The statue didn’t reply, but it didn’t need to.  Its expression from when he had first sat down had softened, ever so slightly.  Domino smirked.  
  
    Dusk came and went, the ship raised anchor and moved away from what was quite likely the site of a slaughter in progress, to the open ocean.  Floodlights cast by Creature deckhands kept a constant watch on the horizon, sky, and water for anything getting close to the ship.  
  
    The captain was relaxing with a bubble bath for the evening.  Enjoying the warm water as an escape from the frigid temperatures outside, when he heard a scuffle from the deck.  Carefully reaching for the hilt of his cutlass as it escalated, before the door to his cabin opened, and soon after someone knocked at his bathroom door.  
  
    “Captain,” came Urd’s tired voice.  “There has been a complication.”  
  
    “How complicated is it?”  The ferret didn’t stop going for the cutlass until Urd confirmed her identity.  The right responses to the right questions.  
  
    “Political hurricane, sir.  Your input is required.”  
  
    “Is it so required that I don’t even have time to get dressed?”  The door creaked open and a pair of trousers were thrown in, along with his coat.  The coat landed square on the ferret’s face, and he had to scramble to keep the hem out of the water.  ‘Yeah, that’s her,’ he thought, reaching for a towel grumpily.  
  
    Upon leaving the bathroom Domino noticed Urd didn’t look all that worse for wear, mostly her dress was rumpled and her fur mussed in places.  She and he quickly made it out onto the deck, and down belowdecks.  Domino tried to make it look like the freezing cold didn’t affect him despite the brief time exposed.  Still, his feet burned from the cold.  
  
    The meeting room was on the second floor, off from the dining hall for the junior officers.  The senior officers took meals in their quarters or the meeting room to discuss goings-on, or in cases like this apparently.  
  
    Arriving in the room, the ferret saw Ms. Isarra Que’tnar seated in what would be the medical officer’s chair.  She looked exactly like her portrait, except she was dressed in a shabby robe and a shawl of all things.  Cubi didn’t belong in drab fashion; it had to be stylish or nothing.  They apparently had an entire clan that went with the ‘or nothing’ option.  Nact somethingorother.  
  
    “Ms. Que’tnar, I assume,” Domino annonced his presence, strolling in like he owned the place, well he did have a thirty-five percent ownership of the ship itself, but that was neither here nor there. He held out his hand to her, which she took, likely expecting a shake.  Domino turned it into the more traditional hand kiss of a more chivalrous age.  “Lovely to have you on board, I trust you are recovering from your ordeal well?”  
  
    The cat succubus looked confused for a moment, but nodded.  “I am well, has your agent informed you of the situation?”  Isarra had the accent of Borovec, starting high and growing lower as the sentence progressed.  
  
    “Why don’t you tell me in your words what’s happened, hmm?”  Domino let nothing show in his face beyond a pleasant smile while taking the seat next to Isarra’s.  Fortunately Cubi didn’t mind people going shirtless nearly as much as other races, or the positioning might have been awkward.  
  
    “Vecenstein is devolving into an anti-Creature movement.  It started when the town made a move against a local Demon family, but when they were understandably slaughtered, the rest of the Duchy became incensed.”  
  
    “Oh dear, and you needed extraction because people started to suspect you?”  
  
    “No,” the cat refused to meet Domino’s gaze for a moment.  Sitting on his knees to lean on the table, the ferret tried to feign polite concern.  When in reality he was worrying that his ship and crew would have to be a rallying point for extracting every agent in the Ister Union.  
  
    He had nothing against the agents; but the crew was his first concern.  
  
    “No?  So they didn’t suspect, but knew?”  
  
    “No, but there was a younger citizen of Ti’baltr there.  I couldn’t stay when it would put them at risk.”  Domino blinked.  He blinked many times in rapid succession, turned to Urd, who was pinching the bridge of her nose while feeling around for the whiskey bottle on a nearby table, then returned to staring at Isarra while blinking.  
  
    “Please tell me you did not take a child to term while undercover as a sixty-six year old woman.”  
  
    “No,” the cat answered far too calmly in Domino’s opinion.  
  
    “Are you pregnant right now, is that what’s happening?”  
  
    “I am not pregnant, I did not have a child, captain.”  The cat reached to her side, and pulled a leather portmanteau, opening it up, and producing a parchment booklet which she offered to Domino.  
  
    He examined the booklet and nearly dropped it from shock.  “A… citizenship application.  This is over seven hundred years old!”  
  
    “But still legally valid,” Urd commented, downing a cup of whiskey.  “She and I argued legal definitions for hours, but her argument was more convincing.”  Domino flipped through the booklet, reading the information filled out.  Printed when Ti’baltr’s rising star was shining bright, these parchment booklets had magic in the very stitching; connecting them to Files and Records back at the homeland.  Glancing at the information, he eventually reached the end; where a fingerprint of blood sealed the deal.  
  
    Beneath the fingerprint was a note from Files and Records, etched from afar through the magic of the application.  
  
 _Application Approved._  
  
    “So this… Hyden is a citizen of Ti’baltr.  Right.  But from what you’ve listed as his date of birth, he’s only fourteen or so,” Domino closed the booklet and feigned polite interest while connections were forming in his head, and he sensed growing rage.  “Where are his parents?”  
  
    “His father is dead,” Isarra replied.  “And his mother was last seen going into premature labor and being moved to Borovec’s capital city.”  
  
    “Okay.  What does the mother think about this?  Will we be picking her up and stopping by the immigration station on the way home?”  
  
    “No, captain.  His mother does not know he’s here.”  Domino slowly relaxed his face, letting the dark scowl manifest.    
  
    “You’re upset.”  
  
    “You kidnapped a Demon,” Domino started, hopping off his chair to pace the outside of the room.  “You broke your cover, got me and my people involved, and kidnapped a Demon.  Wow.  I mean, just wow.”  He held out his hand, rubbing his face with the other.  A glass of whiskey was placed into it by the bat, as expected.  He took a long draft of the alcohol; it was going to be one of those nights.  
  
    “I did not kidnap, I rescued him.  His family was abusing him-” the cat stopped when Domino fixed her with a terrible scowl.  
  
    “Urd, define the word kidnapping for our dear Ms. Que’tnar.”  
  
    “Kidnap, verb: to take someone away illegally by force,” the bat drawled, folding her wings over her chest like some leathery shawl and sitting down.  “Usually for the purpose of ransom.”  
  
    “Thankfully you don’t seem the type to ransom him back.  You’d have to be pretty thick, anyway.  You took a teenager from his family.  They were abusing him? We don’t have any proof of that.  They’re likely to die in this anti-Creature purge?  They’re Demons, they regularly win out over these.  Especially if his family has a couple demons over three hundred.”   
  
    “They’re the Bloodstone family from Vecenstein.  The ruling three are two males, age eight-hundred and ninety, four hundred and six, and a female, age seven hundred and twenty-one.  The eldest male is the father of the younger two.”  Domino growled and resisted the urge to strike his head against a wall.  Even if the female had been pregnant, three Demons of that age would breeze through anything but veteran adventurers.  Regaining composure, the ferret returned to his seat, and to sitting on his knees to lean on the table.  
  
    “So, please.  Tell me a good reason to not advise the Company that you be found in breach of contract, Ms. Que’tnar.”  
  
    The cat was quiet for a moment.  “I have proof that the boy is directly descended from Mikhail through his mother.”  Urd laid her head on the table, and covered it with her arms, while Domino’s fingers went lax and  his glass fell to the table, teetering on one edge before settling on its base.  
  
    “What.”  A flat what.  A complete inability to comprehend a statement.  Seeing or hearing something so bizarre, so not what you expected, that the brain could not process it for minutes.  
  
    “I have the genealogy,  I stole it from his family’s records while I rescued,” she placed an emphasis on that word, as if to refute the ferret’s earlier accusations, “him from them.  Of the family, he’s an ideal candidate.  Young, able to be groomed to the role, has reasonable levels of power for his age, of mild temperament, is a Ti’baltr citizen, and his father was a Being and an adventurer; which the public can relate to.”  She produced a scroll from the portmanteau, and rolled it to Domino.  
  
    “You,” Domino said back, putting on an air of authority he didn’t feel, “are not the department of succession.”  
  
    “True, but I worked as deputy-director there for thirty-four years.  I know the qualities needed to make Mikhail’s successor stick given how long he’s been gone, and Hyden is the best we could hope for short of being a full Demon.”  
  
    “Genealogies can be faked.  The only real test of his ability to inherit is Mikhail’s chalice.”  An ancient artifact constructed by the Demon king to ensure his throne would be filled by those of his blood.  Constructed of red stone and filled with sanguine liquid, the Ti’baltr Museum had renamed it the Chalice of Blood.  “You know what happens to false claims when they drink from it.”  Domino, as a member of the Ti’baltr family had to witness such events when they rarely occurred.  Grisly. “You’re willing to risk being wrong with this kid?”  
  
    Isarra was quiet for a long time, and turned away from Domino, her headwings sinking low.  She probably hadn’t thought of what would happen if she was wrong.  Cubi so rarely did. The ferret sighed, anger turning to bitter dread at the days to come.  
  
    “If the kid is legitimately a candidate… your duty as a citizen to see him safely delivered to the homeland trumps everything.  I won’t advise you be found in breach of contract.  Urd, show Ms. Que’tnar a room, I want to talk to this kid.”  
  
    “He is under a long-term sleep spell,” the bat succubus replied, sitting up at last.  “The medical officer is working on breaking the enchantment, but we’re not equipped for the task.”  
  
    “Fine, dreamwalk him.  I want as much info on his side of this story that you can give me.”  Urd nodded.  Domino left the room with the application, and the genealogy, already thinking of all the ways the situation could backfire, and how to see about waking the kid up without sending him into a rampage.  They also needed desperately to get further away from Vecenstein if the kid had been kidnapped.  
  
    Returning to his cabin, Domino instructed the helm to take them back in the direction of Ti’baltr at full sail.  The documents were set aside for review in the morning.  And as expected, his bathwater had gone cold.  Lovely.  
  
    As the days went by, Domino checked the application and genealogy multiple times over for flaws.  For reasons to disbelieve the claim Isarra said was there.  But alas, it was not to be.  Mikhail, mate of Dominus and Nanbi, and one of the three founders of Ti’baltr had died in battle eight hundred years ago, leaving a daughter as his heir.  The validity of the child to inherit was disputed, as the child was not begotten by Nanbi who was not barren despite the Angel race’s typical difficulties.  But Mikhail cared nothing for validation by outside sources, the child was his by blood, and she was due to take up his position.  
  
    But when the time came, she fled Ti’baltr rather than claim the fountain of power left for her.  Apparently to flee far to the north, find love with a Demon ram, and start a family, only to die by assassination decades later.  The descriptions matched up, the dates matched up… all that would need to confirm beyond doubt that it had really been Mikhail’s daughter who was grandmother to the half-Demon in Domino’s infirmary would be to exhume her remains.    
  
    Probably wouldn’t even be all that difficult.  Demons did not care for the sanctity of their dead overmuch.  From what Urd had been able to gather, the kid had indeed been abused but he was in denial over it.  The only members of the family descended from Mikhail that she believed competent to serve were two females, Oresse, the kid’s mother, and Auriga, his eldest cousin.  
  
    Both powerful, neither looking down on Beings, both with strong work ethic… and by taking Hyden instead of approaching the situation maturely, Isarra had poisoned them against Ti’baltr, perhaps beyond mending.  
  
    She still was not in breach of contract, Domino decided.  But she had screwed up royally.  With Isarra’s skill with enchanting, Urd’s own magical education, and the tricks of their medical officer, it was entirely likely that the boy would wake up any day.  Which was good, as Domino had sent word to the homeland, and they were sending someone better equipped to guard the kid against attackers while in transit: a ship of the line, the Antiquity, captained by Domino’s cousin Marlyn.  
  
    With the Harridan’s speed, the two ships would rendezvous on the edge of Ti’baltr-controlled waters in a day at most.  As they were getting closer, the question of the boy’s health became increasingly worrisome.  The medical officer prepared a variety of vaccinations against Ti’baltr native diseases, and requisitioned every powered shaver on board to sheer the ram’s fleece down to where he wouldn’t suffer heat stroke in a tropical environment.  When Domino got his back, the poor thing had to be put out of its misery, meaning he had to use a straight blade to keep facefuzz from getting out of control.  
  
    The day the Antiquity was due to rendezvous with the Harridan, Domino received a call from Medical of all places.  “Yellow?”  
  
    “Captain,” came the voice from the medical officer.  Sebastian Chuf, a llama Being, gifted with mundane medicine which translated easily to magical healing.  Even temperament, no qualms about tying down Creatures who refused bedrest.  “The Demon boy is awake.  Mr. Yelmo and I saw him heading upstairs, you might want to head him off before he goes for a swim.”  
  
    “He look alright to be up and about?”  
  
    “A bit thin for my liking, but healthy enough.”  
  
    “Righto, I’ll get him calmed down,” Domino waited for the llama to politely end the call and instead heard the dial tone.  Seb was a jerk like that.  Putting on a taupe shirt and his enchanted choker, the captain left for the deck, and waited.  
  
    Seb was a jerk, but not a ‘down to the marrow in his bones’ jerk, so when the kid came up, he was fully dressed in the same pyjamas Isarra had brought him aboard with.  They didn’t quite look to fit right without the fleece that had to get shorn off, but the kid weren’t going to offend the sensibilities of anyone onboard at least.  
  
    The ram, Domino had to stop and think about gender cues in sheep because the boy didn’t have horns yet, seemed shocked that none of the crew were trying to stop him.  It wasn’t like he actually posed a threat to anyone on the ship other than himself; but the boy didn’t know that.  Not yet.  Hyden, Domino remembered his name, saw the horizon, and walked to the railing, expressing the sensation of feeling the world falling out from under him in his face.  Domino let him have his moment, and hopped onto the rail beside the boy, waiting for the ram to notice him.  
  
    “You look confused,” Domino started when the moment dragged on too long.  The ram jumped and turned to him, as if seeing him for the first time.  He looked over the ferret for a moment, and seeing what he likely assumed was another Being, relaxed.  
  
    “Um… yeah, confused is a word I would use for this,” said the ram in that same ‘start high, go lower’ accent that Isarra had spouted before interacting with the crew brought back her proper Ti’baltic accent.  
  
    “Weird accent you got there, boy,” the ferret grinned at the boy, Demons tended to react well to displaying teeth if someone had a set to be proud of.  “Well, if you have questions, I’m the man to answer them.  I’m the captain of this here boat. Domino Ti’balt.  Welcome aboard.”  
  
    He held his hand out to shake, which the ram did after a moment’s consideration.  Domino led him back to his cabin, instructed the boy to sit, and went for beverages from his personal kitchen.  “They got coffee up north, boy?”  
  
    “My name is Hyden,” the ram replied testily, scowling.  “And.. what’s coffee?”  
  
    “Well then, Hyden, this will be quite the learning experience.”  The ferret wasn’t feeling evil enough to put the boy on caffeine yet, not until the Antiquity was in sight anyway, so put on a pot of decaf.  “Now, while I’m making this, first question?”  
  
    “Um.  Where are we?”  
  
    “The Pondiac Ocean, tropical region, going toward the equator in the general Ti’baltr area.  Five day of travel from Vecenstein at top speed, eight as the crow flies.”  Domino opened his ice box, to see what he could find that a Demon would eat.  The boy was likely hungry for something solid.  “Next question?”  
  
    “Can I go home, please?”  Ah yes.  That unpleasant question.  Ooh, honeyed ham.  Domino took the ham from the icebox, and rummaged around for the bread and knives.  
  
    “Unfortunately no.  Vecenstein has started a chain of events that have turned most of the coastal region of Borovec against the native Creatures.  It’s become an armed uprising that the Ister Union’s going to have to put down, and that could take years.  No way I’m letting my ship anywhere in that neighborhood.  Next?”  Choppity-chop went the knife as Domino carved off slices of ham to put on the bread slices.  “What do you like with your sandwich, anyway?”  
  
    “Is that ham?  I like mustard with ham.”  The ram smiled for a moment before remembering he was supposed to be upset, and changing his expression to match.  “What if I want to go back?”  
  
    “You’re free to try swimming?  Watch out for the sharks, they bite hard.”  The coffee done, the sandwich made, Domino took the boy his food and drink, before fetching his own and the cream.  “Next question?”  All through the conversation, Domino kept his tone pleasant and amused, seeing if the kid’s temperament was as mild as Isarra believed.  
  
    “What’s a shark?”  The ram looked into his mug of coffee hesitantly, but seemed interested by the smell, and added some cream to the mixture before tasting.  
  
    “Seen a fish before?”  
  
    “Mhm.”  
  
    “It’s like that.  But between six and fifteen feet long, as thick around as that door, and with teeth a Demon would envy.”  Dom took a swig of his own coffee, sitting at the table, and unlike Hyden, not needing to adjust his legs heavily for comfort.    
  
    “Oh, wow.”  The boy took a bite of sandwich next, at least having the courtesy to swallow before speaking again.  Domino certainly hadn’t at his age.  “They dangerous?”  
  
    “If you’re in the water, yeah.  Next question?”  
  
    “Um.  If I can’t go home, what’s going to happen to me?”  
  
    “Well in the short term, we’re meeting up with a ship of the line to escort you and the Ms. Que’tnar to Ti’baltr, where you’ll likely be processed, and talked to about housing and what goals you’d like to pursue while there.”  Dom, seeing the kid absolutely destroy his sandwich quickly, pushed his own to the boy.  
  
    “So, you guys have lots of Demons I could live with for a while?”  
  
    “Boy, one of our founders was a Demon.  Demons account for the largest Creature type in our citizenry.  To answer your question, yes.  Unless you want to stay with an Angel family or something?”  
  
    “Oh right.  I forgot that part,” so the boy knew something of Ti’baltr’s history.  Interesting.  “Is that why your spy was a succubus?”  
  
    “I don’t follow, son.”  
  
    “Um, Cubi are a type of Demon, aren’t they?”  Domino didn’t respond a first, then his face twisted in amusement, and he quickly stomped on the urge to laugh, reducing it to a giggle fit.  “What?”  
  
    “Hehehehehe, sorry.  Ahem.”  The ferret gained control of himself, thankful that he hadn’t knocked anything over.  “No, Cubi are their own race.  The Ti’baltr Trading Company keeps a few on staff because of their long lifespan, and infiltration abilities.  A couple of clans vassaled themselves for protection during the Dragon Cubi war, but they make up one of the smallest minorities.  Next question?”  
  
    The exchange went like that for an hour or so.  The boy would ask, and the ferret answer.  He seemed delighted to have someone answer his questions, after he stopped trying to be upset.  Domino even got him to socialize with some of the crew, having the most luck with the Demon-descended Beings.  
  
    The Antiquity, which seemed to have inflated their number of Demon crewmembers since last Domino saw them, rendezvoused without the boy causing a fuss.  It was decided Isarra would stay on the Harridan, to her displeasure, while Hyden went on the Antiquity.  The two ships would divert course, and meet up at Ti’baltr, with the Harridan’s speed making sure Isarra was there first to explain things to the Company, and have arrangements ready.  
  
    What no one considered was that the same speed would incite the chase instinct of two flying Demons who had been stalking them into attacking.  
  
    Domino wouldn’t remember the exact details of that night for the rest of his life.  Neither would he want to.  Images from it would be burned into his mind, however.  
  
    _...the deck cracking as the first demon, a female ewe of green and blue fleece with lightning marks slammed through the mainmast….._  
  
 _...an explosion of light, a searing pain in his left eye, Urd shouting ‘Abandon ship!  Abandon ship!’...._  
  
 _...the whole ship shaking as she struck the reef, the hull twisting until the stern came away from the bow…_  
  
 _...Urd, impaled by a spear, sinking gently through the water.  Swimming frantically to reach her, reminding himself that dead people didn’t sink…._  
  
 _...the shock of impact, a dark shape in the water, a shark.  Dark red pouring from his left arm, the inability to feel his hand…._  
  
 _...hands grabbing him around the waist, pulling him back up.  Trying to shout at them to save her, to save Urd…._  
  
 _...the sight of the bow sinking down below the water.  Winged figures circling overhead, before departing to the south…._  
  
    Domino became aware again in a hospital, from the sound of things.  The beeps of equipment, the sterile white of the walls and floor, the smell of rubbing alcohol.  He was alive.  
  
    That thought alone sent fire through his veins.  He got out of the bed the hospital staff had put him in, ripping the tubes they had placed into him from their spots, sounding half a dozen alarms.  He didn’t care.  He needed to destroy something.  
  
    After throwing the bed through the window he found that his left hand was gone entirely; only a heavily bandaged stump left at the end of his arm.  That only slowed him down.  Chairs were shattered on the walls.  A heart-rate monitor broken over the head of the Demon orderly who tried to subdue him.  
  
    When his rage was gone, the hospital staff had learned to stay back.  Domino demanded his property back, and signed bills for the property and injuries he had done that would be billed to the Company, and left.  
  
    He needed to go to the wharf.  To see that the Harridan was really gone.  To go to her dock and find it empty.  Along the way, he found he hadn’t just lost his hand, but also his eye.  His left eye had a bandage over it, with a socket filled with a glass ball underneath.  
  
    The dock was empty.  The splendor of Ti’baltr meant nothing to him anymore.  His ship was dead, and buried at sea without her captain.  Urd was dead and buried at sea without her captain.  Domino wanted to rampage again, but it wouldn’t come.  
  
    A bit of movement among the unloaded crates of a cargo ship caught his eye.  A tiny batwing attached to gray hair.  Sweet, delicious hope filled him, and the ferret charged the boxes, shoving them aside with ease.  
  
    He didn’t find Urd.  But he did find a girl.  A lammergeier, late teens, her plumage of red, white, and black, her hair the same shade of gray that Urd’s had been.  Wearing what seemed to be bits of leather stitched together in the rough shape of a dress, red and black feathered wings rising from her shoulders and head.  The girl had the air of a cornered animal ready to strike, and looked it too, even if she was a bit thin.  
  
    Domino felt hope crush down into fine despair, but put on his most winning smile, and offered his good hand.  “Hey,” he said, his tone hiding his emotions with cheer.  “I’m Domino.  You look hungry, wanna grab something to eat?"  
  
    She looked ready to bite his hand off rather than take it, and for a moment, Domino thought she would.  But she took it, and he helped her to her feet.  “I’m Evgenija,” she said in the flat voice of a Kebrian.  “And… I would like some food… please?”


	3. Making a Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evgenija just wanted to be an adventurer - to help people. Unfortunately, she ran afoul of the government.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally a four parter, that's why the formatting is all over the place.

**Chapter 3- Making a Monster**  
  
“I will be completing the adventurer certification course soon, mother.”  Evgenija told her mother one night over dinner.  Bone marrow soup, a recipe brought with her from her homeland across the ocean.  Evgenija and her mother were lammergeier, bearded vultures; white and black plumage, with dye to color the feathers around the head red.  They were a rare breed in Kebre, even rarer in Veldun, set at the foot of the mountains.  
  
“You will not seek out a more suitable profession?”  Asked Anevka, Evgenija’s mother.  The two were seated opposite each other in the small dining nook, in the old house that had been converted into a duplex for rent.  A perfectly humble place to live for two ladies.  
  
“I have not the patience to be a maid, nor the gentle bearing to be a nurse, mother.”  Evgenija wisely did not bring up the subject of secretary work, her mother’s profession.  
  
“So you will wander the country as a vagabond, righting wrongs and fighting monsters?”  
  
“Yes.”  Anevka hmmed, displeased, but did not press.  That was the way of a proper Kebrian woman.  To speak only as much as was necessary.  That the corsets were so tight that it was difficult to breathe certainly contributed to that.  They ate their soup, and drank their tea in silence.  Neither quite happy with the other, but not angry enough to speak out of turn.  
  
“I am going to class now, mother,” Evgenija said, standing from the nook, and taking her dishes to the sink for washing.  “Do you need anything from the store while I am out?”  
  
“Please pick up some fresh bread.  Mrs. Okra loaned me some the day before yesterday, and I aim to repay her.”  Mrs. Okra, her husband, and their newborn babe were the occupants of the second level of the duplex.  A lovely trio of mice who didn’t mind that their neighbor was unmarried, and her daughter also unmarried, and had wings.  
  
The younger vulture took her cloak from the hook, and exited the house, folding her wings over her front to keep herself warm, and to hide her figure from the prying eyes of vagabonds.  Not ten years ago, it would be unnecessary.  But when the new Mayor took office, he being a former militiaman, he enabled certain privileges to the militia.  Such as the ability to discount complaints for frivolous reasons.  Like an officer touching someone in unprofessional manners.  
  
In the end, it was easier to simply cover up rather than hope the officers one encountered on the street would be decent men.  Veldun was a mining town; the source of coal and iron ore for all of the central nation.  But most importantly, for Novzgrad, thirty miles to the east.  Novzgrad wasn’t a city so much as a massive research institute with houses attached.    
  
Anevka had lived their once.  Had been her father’s secretary.  And once hoped to be his new wife.  But instead, she was cast out of the scientific capital of Kebre, and forced to move to Veldun.  Evgenija never asked about her father, because Anevka had enough trouble telling how her loved one had betrayed her, without needing to talk about who he was.  
  
Even as a mining town, there was an urban sector.  A slice of civilization, with proper Kebrian carved stone buildings, cobbled roads, and statues at the city square.  The adventurer school and guildhall neighbored the square, the marble building commissioned when Veldun’s Creature aristocracy allowed Beings into the government.  
  
Ascending the stairs, the lammergeier felt safe for the first time since leaving her house.  The school was safe, no militiamen were allowed inside.  She could spread her wings, and no be gawked at.  She could practice magic without someone giving her dagger-glares.  She could be herself.  
  
Since the current batch of students were so close to graduation, the instructors gave them a quick run-down of their exam subjects and let them out early.  Evgenija had time to practice her stealth and knife maneuvers before going for bread.  When she had started the course, no one had believed a girl who regularly dressed in floor-length dresses, with corsets, and with heeled shoes could be anything but a support caster.  
  
She proved them wrong.  Her corset helped learned breath control, her dress allowed her to hide a staggeringly high number of knives of all sizes, and her shoes had been enchanted to allow her greater speed, silence, and jumping ability.  From being a topic of ridicule, Evgenija was going to graduate _magna cum laude_.  Vindication tasted sweet, she found.  
  
“Evgenija, a word?”  Called a voice from down below.  The lammergeier was currently running an obstacle course for those with wings that emphasized jumping, gliding, and controlled falling to various elevated platforms.  It was usually rude to interrupt such a run, because they were competitively timed.  
  
Evgenija signaled the time-keeper to stop, and gracefully glided down to the floor.  Across the way was Instructor Cruc, the trainer on identifying weapon quality and forging.  A hare, short even for his kind.  “Yes, instructor?” she said to him, hiding her annoyance with a drawling tone.  
  
“Sorry to interrupt, but something they did over in Novzgrad messed up our batch of Adventurer’s Stones.  Could you come by tomorrow after the graduation ceremony and have yours redone?”  
  
“It cannot be salvaged?”  She didn’t mind redoing the soul-imprinting process upon a stone if it was necessary.  Such stones were vital for the guild to know if someone had died, or worse than died.  She didn’t want to risk her mother missing out on her death benefits.  But if it could be avoided, she’d rather avoid it.  
  
“Nope.  The Stone doesn’t respond to any magic.  We’re going to have to start over from scratch, sorry.”  The hare did look genuinely sorry.  But that didn’t matter.  The stone imprinting would drain Evgenija of most of her stamina, meaning she would not be able to go out and adventure.  No one would, if all the new Stones were damaged.  She would have to endure the endless whining of the melee fighters until the ceremony ended.  Drat.  
  
“If it cannot be avoided, it cannot be avoided.  I clear my schedule, thank you for letting me know.”  Her mood ruined, the lammergeier left the school to pick up the bread, and head home.  Her mother would be displeased but then she always was with Evgenija.  
  
As expected, come the next day, there was nothing but whining from the melee fighters, enthused whispers from the strategists who had another day to plan, and a lukewarm reaction from the casters.  And as expected, the ritual to bind the stones left everyone so weak that no one could adventure as they had hoped.  
  
It warmed Evgenija’s heart, the memory of watching the melee brutes have to leave their greatswords and plate armor behind because they couldn’t stand up with them anymore.  
  
What chilled her heart, as she approached home, was the sight of the door ajar, the frame splintered.  Knives appeared between her fingers.  Old weakness gone with the growing dread of her mother perhaps being at risk, she advanced on the door and entered in, listening for intruders.  
  
Quiet.  Not even the cries of the newborn on the floor above.  Going room by room, she scanned for invaders or her mother.  She found the latter in the kitchen, a garrote around her neck, hands tied behind her back, wheezing for air that wouldn’t come.  
  
Evgenija carefully approached her mother, putting away her throwing knives and pulling out a cutting one.  But as she knelt down, the older lammergeier shook her head, and looked at her, panicked.  
  
No, not at her, the younger vulture thought as she saw where her mother’s pupils were focused.  Behind her-  
  
She didn’t finish the thought before throwing knives were in her free hand, and flying through the air behind her.  A pained scream filled the air, while Evgenija hastily cut the garrote, and pulled her mother up to her feet, putting more knives in her hands.  A dog in a black hooded robe, green shirt brown pants and boots, no identifying marks howled in pain, a knives sticking from his chest, narrow enough to fit through the gaps in his ribs.  
  
She at first thought the wound would make it a fairer fight, but he slowly pulled the knives from the wound.  And she saw his eyes when he glared at her.  Unnatural gold.  Then she noticed the fangs in his snarl.  Vampire.  
  
More knives flew from her fingers, aiming for the head and heart; the only two certain death points on the vampire.  The dog swung his cloak unnaturally fast, and the knives clattered to the ground rather than strike their mark.  
  
A vampire had to be at least four hundred years old to develop that level of speed.  Which meant the first time she’d hit him was pure luck.  And that both vultures were very much dead.  Banking on getting lucky a second time, Evgenija produced more knives, and pulled her arms back to throw them.  
  
But instead found the wolf in her personal space, holding her by the throat with one arm, and a crystal on a string with another.  Lightning gathered around the gem, and struck the young vulture in the face.  
  
Her arms went limp her fingers released the knives and she slumped, held up by the dog holding her neck.  Yet she was awake, aware, but unable to act.  “Stupid girl,” the dog said in the accent of Port Oriss, the capital.  The dog threw her aside, and walked toward her mother.  She could hear her mother whimpering, only to be cut off by a series of crunching noises.  
  
A slump, the growing feeling of warm liquid along her wing feathers and back… Anevka was dead.  And Evgenija knew she soon would be, too.  At least the guild would know, she comforted herself.  At least they’ll make the vampire scum pay.  
  
“You stupid, stupid girl.”  The lighting changed, a shadow cast over her field of vision.  The vampire was standing over her.  “If you had just gone off adventuring instead of coming home to show off to mommy, you might have gotten away,”  hands grabbed her by her shoulders, and started hauling her up.  She could feel him standing between her wings.  Standing… alarmingly close.  
  
Oh no.  
  
A sudden stabbing feeling burst from her neck.  A vile slurping sound from the bastard who’d killed her mother seconds ago.  
  
No no no.  
  
Everything was going numb.  The room… the room was spinning.  
  
Don’t let him make me a monster….  
  
She passed out, praying for God to save her.

She woke up.  That she woke up made her want to cry.  She was in a cell, on a ratty mattress that she could barely see because the only light came from the gap between the floor and the heavy steel door.  She tried to stand only to find she was shackled by the ankle to a spike in the middle of the floor, too short to allow her to reach the door.  She got closer to the spike, and tried to bring up the chain to her eyes, hoping it was reflective.  It was, and the light provided her reflection to see her eyes.  
  
Not the golden color of vampirism, still red as blood.  Relief flooded her, and faded as the door creeped open.  A feline vampire, she knew it was one by the fangs and the eyes which seemed to shine in the dark, strolled in, wearing a female variant of the outfit her canine attacker had.  
  
“You’re awake.  Good,” the cat spoke with the same accent as the dog; that of the capital.  “I will explain this to you once.  You are no longer a citizen of Kebre.  You have no rights.  You may or may not have done anything to deserve being here; no one cares.  This room will be yours for the rest of your life.  No one will come to save you.”  
  
Evgenija wanted to say something, but all she did was stare.  Unable to process.  
  
“You will be visited every few days for me or one of my people to feed on you.  The more fuss you make, the longer you go without food.  We won’t let you kill yourself, or your cellmate.  None of my boys will feed off you long enough for you to die.  We won’t turn you.  The only way out of here is old age.  The end.”  Evgenija mustered up the courage to say something, but the cat turned and left the cell, closing the door behind her.  A moment later, it clicked with a lock.  
  
Evy stopped to process what had been said.  She tried calling to the limited magic she knew, but it fizzled as it formed.  Something in the area must have been messing with her spell.  Examining the spike told the vulture nothing.  It felt like it was merged with the ground, which meant it was either carved, or formed magically.  But in feeling it, she found there was another chain attached to it.  
  
_...we won’t let you kill yourself or your cellmate…._  
  
The vulture followed the chain to find the other person, maybe they could think of something.  What she found, however, was a grim vision of what she would become if she stayed.  
  
An old woman.  A bird, like her, but some sort of heron.  She was lying flat on her back, staring up at the ceiling.  Here eyes were dead, glassy, they didn’t respond to Evgenija waving her hand in front of them.  The only indication that the other woman was alive was the gentle rise and fall of her chest, and the rare blink.  The vulture couldn’t stand the sight, not bothering to try talking to the woman, she backed away.  To her own mattress.  
  
The first time they came in to feed on her and the old woman, she fought.  They used the paralyzing stone on her, and fed anyway, but left food for the old woman across the cell.  By the time she was free, the old woman had eaten her food and returned to her usual laying on her back.  
  
Days bled into each other, and by the time they came again, she was too hungry to risk fighting.  The food they left was terrible, but it stopped the burning in her stomach.  The routine would continue.  A few days of nothing but darkness and silence between the two women, and then the vampires would come to feed.  
  
Soon, Evgenija was hoping she wouldn’t be rescued, because how could she recover from the disgrace of being held captive by vampires of all things.  She still believed she’d be rescued.  That was how things went; evil Creatures did things, but eventually adventurers would come by and defeat them.  
  
_That woman is old, and these vampires are old.  Adventurers may come, but will they be in time to save you?_  
  
Evgenija really hated her brain sometimes.  While she waited, she listened at the door for information about where she was, or who the vampires were.  It took days of work, but the picture she pieced together was not what she had expected.  
  
Kebre was gradually becoming a nation of Beings and Creatures, but at the highest levels of power, the Creatures still ruled.  The current Governor, the top of the pile, was an incubus, and so too were two of the ministers in his cabinet.  The minister of security, Theophillus Kish’Ta was the employer of the nest of vampires in which the vulture found herself.  
  
Which meant that the vampires worked for the Secret Police.  Which meant that the government that she had been raised to trust and be proud of had ordered her to suffer for the rest of her life… because it was convenient.  
  
Hopes crushed, Evgenija did what not even her mother’s death had done; she cried.  The days following that realization were the worst ones.  Where despair filled her every waking thought, where the memory of every bit of freedom she had possessed taunted her and her present situation.  The sweet sensation of flight, the feel of the sun on her feathers, the smell of grass.  
  
She stopped keeping track of time as numbness set in.  Soon she was no better than the old woman opposite her.  Moving only when fed upon, or when food was laid in front of her.  
  
She had to shut down, or she’d have gone mad.  
  
 But something changed.  One day, Evgenija saw food laid in front of her as the vampires left, and she felt no desire to eat.  It was like this break in the routine woke her up from some deep sleep, and she was aware of her situation again.  Unable to fathom why she felt no hunger, the vulture pushed her food to the heron’s side of the cell.  The old woman had no such reservations and ate the second helping.  
  
Days following, Evgenija became aware of something.  It felt like… oil on her brain, which didn’t make sense as the brain had no nerve ending by which to detect sensation.  Focusing on the oil, brought memories of finding out about the vampires and the Secret Police.  The feeling of hope crushing down into despair.  Despair.  That was what she was feeling in the air.  
  
She didn’t like it.  As the days went by, it stayed in the air and she was constantly aware of it.  Unable to go back to the numbness.  Soon, she swore it was developing a taste; a bitter one.  
  
It must have been an effect from the magic-dampening field, she decided.  She’d need to ask for a doctor.  Would they care?  They said she wasn’t going to be allowed to die, so they must have a doctor.  
  
“Doctor… doctor… need doctor,” she kept chanting that as loud as she could rasp.  Time had no meaning beyond the sound of her voice.  The door opened, and the vampires entered in.  But there was someone else.  A mole, dressed in a labcoat, with a stethoscope around his neck.  
  
“Need a doctor, lass?”  The mole grinned down at her as he helped her to a sitting position.  He grinned, his teeth were jagged, and some were made of gold.  “Doctor’s here.  What ails you?”  
  
“Can’t… eat.”  Not a lie.  Not the truth either.  
  
“Hmm?  Have you boys been messing up the recipes I gave you again?”  The mole turned to glower at the vampires, who shook their head.  “Then it must be something else, I’ll do a quick exam and see if she needs transport.  One of you get the anti-magic cuffs ready.”  A bovine vampire nodded and left, leaving the doctor, a floppy-eared canine, and a horse with her.  
  
The mole patted her down, shone a light into her eyes.  Moved aside the scraps of her once exquisite dress to examine her feathers.  Made her stretch her wings.  But when he was checking her legs, the mole man backed away in a panicked rush until he hit the wall.  
  
“What is it?”  The horse vampire asked, moving between Evgenija and the mole.  
  
“You dumb bastards, who told you to take this girl?”  The vulture fixed her eyes on the mole, visible by being thicker than his guardian.  Something was rolling off him… something that made her heart beat fast, made her think of being chased by something hungry.  
  
**Fear.**  
  
It felt like her hair standing on end, like pins and needles.  And unlike despair, she did not dislike the taste of it.  She loved it.  It filled a hole in her she didn’t know was there, and put strength back in her limbs.  She could stand again, and she did, wobbling only a little.  
  
“What are you talking about?  She’s just a girl.”  
  
“She’s a succubus you daft bastard!  Look at her leg, the mark on her leg!”  They did, and Evgenija didn’t mind the looking for fear bloomed in them as well.  “Get the keys, get the keys quick!  We need to get her to the minister; if he finds out we had her and didn’t bring her, he’ll have our souls for sure!”  Fear split into different shades and tastes in the others.  Dread, felt kind of like peanut butter and had a smooth taste.  Panic, sour like a lemon, gave her pep.  Terror, a fine wine.  
  
She momentarily felt a pressure in her head, and her hair moving aside as something pushed up from below.  The bovine vampire, who had come back when he’d heard shouting, stopped in the doorway.  They all stopped and stared for a moment, while the vulture drank in their fear.  
  
Soft laughter split the air.  Evgenija didn’t mind until she found out it was coming from her.  But also… not from her.  Her wings fanned out, and seemed to contort.  Her primary feathers lengthening, their black color defining the long wiggling limbs that seemed to form in their place, leaving the red feathers as a base.  Some ended in hook like limbs, but others ended in bulbs of red.  
  
It took her a moment to realize they were mouths.  The red was their lips, slightly longer on the bottom, but lips.  They pulled back to reveal two solid structures that mimicked teeth but with no individual pieces.  They opened and laughter came from them.  Her laughter.  
  
“Um.”  She didn’t know who had spoken, but it didn’t matter.  The second they did, the mouths stopped laughing, and they, along with the hook-end tentacles lashed out.  The mouths even gave a blood-curdling roar as they went.  
  
Vampires, mole doctor, steel spike anchoring her to the floor; all went to pieces seconds later.  Evgenija didn’t stop laughing until it was all over.  She realized the door was open and her captors were in pieces all over the floor, and… being chewed upon by some of her tentacles.  She wouldn’t have minded except she could taste it in her mouth.  
  
“Stop that,” she told the limbs, and they did.  Grudgingly.   She carefully stepped through the pieces to the door.  One last look in, at where she had been trapped so long, at the bodies, at the old woman laying on the mattress staring at the ceiling as blood cooled on her.  
  
One look back, that’s all she stopped for.  Everyone who got between her and the door out of the prison would end up like the vampires and the doctor.  She didn’t care anymore.  
  
She was free.

    The prison’s entrance, she found, was under a tannery.  A tannery that unfortunately was employed when the vulture exited through what up till that point was a secret door.  The workers were tending vats of some liquid, Evgenija didn’t know the contents of, or particularly care.  
  
    They fled when she brandished her new tentacles, giving her a moment to stop and think.  They were dead.  The vampires, all dead.  Well, some of them.  She couldn’t remember all of their faces; but she recalled there being more than three.  
  
    The mole had called her a succubus.  Odd, she didn’t feel like raping and soul stealing.  Maybe she was just bad at it?  Or maybe the reality and the propaganda were different.  Making sure that no one was around, she checked her leg to see the mark she had developed that had convinced the mole of this.  
  
    It was on the inside of her thigh, and was the color black.  It resembled two horns curving back toward each other, suspending an oval between them.  Dots rested near where the horns turned back away from each other.  
  
    She didn’t know the clan associated with that mark; the school had taught the symbols of a frighteningly small number of clans; Cubi being deceivers, it was hard to know how many there were.  The ones best avoided were Hrienth, Jyraneth, and Taun; all combat-trained, all far too smart for the average adventurer, all with ‘flee on sight’ orders.  
  
    Praying the clan she found herself part of was not quite so… violent, she looked around for a mirror.  To see how she looked.  Instead, she found a calendar.  One that could not possibly be right.  The month and date didn’t concern her, she was busy staring at the year.  


 

1946

  
    Four years?  She had spent four years in that place?  No, this had to be a lie, her eyes playing a cruel joke on her mind.  Surely time had passed, a month, maybe two.  But four years?  She couldn’t have tuned out the world for that long, surely.  
  
    She wanted to cry again, thinking of lost time.  How many of her friends had already died out adventuring?  How long had her mother, who didn’t have a job, stay on that floor before someone found her?  
  
    No.  She pulled herself together.  Remembered her adventurer training on facing trauma.  Bury it, put it in a tiny box and lock it away.  There would be a time to grieve, and to rage at the world.  Now wasn’t it, now was the time where she checked what condition she was in, to see how far she could get before getting to safety.  
  
     _...you are no longer a citizen of Kebre…._  
  
    Right.  That.  Which meant she’d be hunted by the Secret Police if she stayed in the nation’s borders.  No problem, the Ister Union was over the mountains.  And if the calendar was right on the month, the passes were open.  She’d just go out, get some furs, and head north.  
  
    The sound of seagulls in the air as she snuck out of the tannery made her stop to look around.  It was far too warm to be Veldun.  There was salt on the wind.  The sound of… crashing waves?  
  
    She was on the coast?!  Gulls, salt, sea, the accent of the capital.  The capital; the seat of power for the entire nation.  Both easier and harder to escape from here, she decided, plying stealth long rusty to ascend to the roof just as the tannery workers returned with uniformed militiamen.  
  
    Easier in that ships to the Ister Union, to Kalpakstan, and Ti’baltr would all be docked at the harbor; and it was infinitely easier to escape on a ship than through a mountain pass.  And harder in that _this was the capital_.  Admittedly, a capital in decline; the last time Ti’baltr had warred with them was six hundred years ago; and the city hadn’t seen major repairs since then.  
  
    Leaping and gliding from roof to roof; making sure to glide only over alleys lest her shadow tip someone off; god forbid they see her while she was _indecent_ but that was part of the adventurer lifestyle.  Port Oriss was a low city; but the two greatest sights to see the vulture had a plain view of: The Imperial Palace, the residence of dragon emperor’s long dead, now the council of Ministers’ building, and the recently constructed building for the provincial rulers, the council of State.  
  
    The port was in view.  Evgenija stopped on a roof, closing her wings around her front while she inspected the ships for a likely vessel to stow away upon.  Kalpakstanni ships were always heavily watched; the Khanate was giving signals of mustering forces for war, and the government was wary of them.  No ships from the Ister Union were docked; though she saw one coming into the harbor.  Coming in, meaning it would be days before she went out again.  
  
    But Ti’baltr had six ships docked.  Two sloops, an armor-plated brig, and three cargo ships.  One looked to be taking on people of all things; an immigration ship?  There was a vague rule she remembered from adventurer school; an adventurer could request passage aboard a friendly vessel if they offered protection from attacks.  But who would believe a succubus to be an adventurer?  
  
    Ti’baltr might.  They were strange like that.  But without her knives, or a decent dress, she was useless in a fight; the tentacles couldn’t be relied upon without more practice.  No, there was another rule, something in the ballpark of the forties.  Adventurer Rule Forty and above were reserved for emergencies.  Example: Rule Forty-four “before all else, hide the noncombatants.”  
  
     _Rule Forty-six: “When you are in over your head, ask for help.”_  
  
    That was the one.  And it was almost harder than posing as an immigrant would be, for Evgenija at least.  To be Kebrian was to be proud; proud of the traditions that had supported her nation, pride in the sacrifices those who came before made to see her safely into the world, pride in themselves, as citizens of the great nation that had formed the seat of Dragon Empires.  
  
    To bend that pride by asking for help.  In training, it had been so easy to mock the more ‘honorable’ trainees with their difficulty practicing the rule.  Now, when her survival may have depended on it… ugh.  
  
    Emotions… she could feel them in the air.  She could from the beginning, but she could ignore it from the driving need to get away.  Spending time to plan, they began to flood in.  Too much.  Too many colors, flavors, sensations.  She needed to block it out.  
  
    How odd that in a country ruled by an incubus, she knew next to nothing about them.  Like how they endured the constant flood of emotions.  No.  She couldn’t go on an immigration vessel if it was going to be this bad.  Too many people.  Too many emotions.  Augh, her head ached already.  
  
    She looked to one of the two cargo vessels.  One seemed ready to depart soon; and had comparatively few people on board.  She could… maybe suffer that.  Stealing food would be difficult; it’d be more likely noticed.  And she didn’t see any women crew out on the deck.  Hopefully, if there were some, they wouldn’t miss a dress.  
  
    Oh right, Ti’baltic women dressed in breeches too, didn’t they.  Ugh, Evgenija couldn’t believe she was going to these people for help.  But, stiff upper lip.  Do what was needed to survive.  
  
    She took a moment to plan her approach to the cargo ship, and slipped down the side of the building.  Folding her wings over herself, she seamlessly slipped into the crowd.  A few of the older generation gave her a strange look, to which she responded with a deadeye glare.  The kind of look the militia gave to citizens who spoke out of turn.  They backed away.  
  
    From there, it was a simple matter to get under the docks.  The tentacles that grew from her wings seemed to know what she needed, and acted as anchors, letting her move between posts without splashing in the water, and drawing attention.  
  
    And from below the docks, to a pallet of crates.  And from there, the cargo hold.  It was almost too easy… and then the got caught.  She was getting the lid off a crate to hide inside it better, but as she was getting the lid closed again, she heard a footstep and the slosh of liquid in a bottle.  
  
    At the stairs to the deck stood a tall, rather large Demon goat in a tricorn hat, and captain’s jacket.  He looked at her, then the bottle of some Ti’baltr alcohol in his hand, then back to her.  Without saying a word, he emptied the bottle over the railing, turned and started walking back upstairs.  
  
    “Seein’ things again,” he muttered as he went.  Evgenija hastily put the lid back on and remained still.  A light spell illuminated her wooden accommodations, and she found she had stumbled upon a crate of garments.  Peasant garments she decided, as she pulled a tunic that belonged hundreds of years in the past up to inspect.  A tag on the side drew her attention.  


 

Gloria Hoo’s Spring Line: Peasant Chic.

  
    “Of all the indulgent, arrogant…”  The vulture rubbed her eyes, and rummaged around for a dress in her size.  A store wealthy enough to stock Ms. Hoo’s work could stand to lose a dress for the greater good.  The box had nothing she’d consider _decent_ , but something resembling leather stitched together to form a rough dress fit her well enough.  
  
    From there, it was a matter of waiting for the ship to leave, and dock at Ti’baltr.  Waiting, exercising her magic for the first time in.. years.  She had so much better control now, was it part of becoming a succubus?  Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad?  
  
    Having nothing better to do after practicing the few spells she knew, Evgenija coiled a tabard into a pillow, and laid down to rest.  
  
    She woke up to a stinging sensation, the taste of ash; grief.  It made her gag and jump.  There was so much noise of emotion that she could hear, but the grief stood out strong.  She had to get away, and started to climb out of the crate.  
  
    Hope.  It stunned her for a moment as she got out of the crate, causing her to fall to the ground.  Someone was moving the crates frantically.  Her back was against the hull of the ship, there was nowhere to go.  
  
    She had to be ready for a fight.  But when the crates cleared, there stood a ferret.  Dressed in hospital clothes, with a bag over his left arm that seemed to be bandaged; a patch over his left eye.  Fur, eye, and hair in shades of brown growing lighter as one got higher.  He seemed to have streaks of near-tan in his fur, but only his neck and head were visible to her, so she couldn’t tell.  
  
    The moment she and he saw each other, hope crumbled to despair, mixed with grief and pain.  She didn’t like it in the least.  The ferret, despite the emotions being of someone close to a breakdown smiled at her, and offered his hand.  
  
    “Hey, I’m Domino.  You look hungry, want to get something to eat?”  She was always perplexed with the Ti’baltic accent.  Low in the mouth, twanged.  It also didn’t help that she could hear faint echoes of something else from the ferret.  
  
     _She looks scared.  Man up, help her.  Urd would want that._  
  
    So he was being a gentleman out of guilt?  Interesting.  “I’m Evgenija,” she replied in the more cultured and controlled Kebrian accent, as she stood.  She was taller, she realized.  Normally a ferret would be waist high to her, but now… the man came up to her mid-thigh.  Disconcerting.  “And… I would like some food… please?”  Ti’baltic manners were different than Kebrian, the poor vulture tried to phrase it as neutrally as possible.  
  
    Grief and despair fading into a consistent, aching pain, the ferret started off down the docks.  Following him, Evgenija was taken aback by what she saw.  Ti’baltr.  The city of the sea.  
  
    Bizzare, the sun catching off towers of irregular shape, some ending in single spiraled tops, others branching halfway into many smaller such structures, others being bulbous at the base and narrowing as they grew.  And more than one that seemed to incorporate waterfalls into their very design.  The principal building materials seemed to be metal and stone; even the pier she stood on was metal painted with various warning signs and esoteric patterns which seemed to change depending on what sort of ships were docked near them.  
  
    “She’s beautiful, no?”  The ferret had stopped to wait for her.  The vulture shook herself out of her stupor, and resumed walking.  “You should see her at night.”  
  
    “Yes, I’m sure,” she tried to sound professional, as they walked.  The ferret was still a stranger to her.  “I hope your restaurants stock bone marrow.”  
  
    “Ma chère,” the ferret exclaimed in some foreign language she didn’t understand, as if he was not emotionally a wreck right now, “this is Ti’baltr.  If it exists in the world, it can be bought here.  Do you prefer red or yellow marrow?”  
  
    Cheeky thing.  
  
He took her to a cafe near the docks.  Remarkably upscale for somewhere close to a heavily used dock.  Evgenija inquired about it.  
  
    “The docks are used by everyone,” the little ferret, Domino, answered.  “From the highest king, to the lowest serf.  In Ti’baltr, you don’t get your own private docks unless you’re military.  Our military,” he clarified quickly.  A waitress politely remained quiet while escorting the two to an outdoor table cooled by a parasol.  She didn’t understand why no one was giving her odd looks; dressed as she was, with her headwings out.  She probably smelled awful too, she decided.  A quick whiff of her wrist confirmed that, to her mortification.  
  
    “Your nobles must share space with your peasants?”  
  
    “See, that’s a thing you Kebrians never seemed to get,” the ferret set his bag down on the table, and the vulture noticed his left arm wasn’t just bandaged, it was missing it’s hand.  “In Ti’baltr, there aren’t nobles.  The closest we got are the Ti’balt family.  They run the show.  Everyone else is what you’d define as a peasant.”  
  
    “I see.  So you only have one group of nobles, and this is how they want things.”  
  
    “You’re getting it, better than most of your countrymen do anyway.”  The waitress left, and while she was gone, Domino struck Evgenija with a fistful of light-brown sparkles that seemed to form in his hand in seconds.  She fluffed out in shock before glaring at the tiny man, who grinned back.  “Not to be mean, ma chère, but you needed a cleaning.”  
  
    “It is acceptable to cast spells upon others without their consent in Ti’baltr?”  
  
    “Of course it ain’t… if you live here.  But you’re Kebrian.  Unless you get a job, a house, or someone to watch out for you, you’re free game.”  
  
    “And you would like to apply to be such a someone, after that incident?”  The ferret shrugged.  His thoughts were growing foggy to her, she didn’t know how to focus on that while the emotions of the street loads of people began to overwhelm her.  The vulture tried to play off rubbing her temple as brushing hair out of her face, but alas.  
  
    “You look like you’re having trouble.  Do you not know how to set up an emotion filter or something?”  Evgenija was grateful the dye she used for her feathers lasted years.  Even with… how long had passed, there was enough red on her head to hide her flush in embarrassment.  “Hey, nothing to be ashamed of.  It’s a learned skill, and you look, what?  Eighteen?  You shouldn’t have popped this early, and you’re alone.”  
  
“It is impolite to guess at a lady’s age,” the vulture tried to growl.  But the headache was getting worse.  The ferret’s pain was colored with concern.  He seemed to know what he was talking about, perhaps he could help.  “But… no.  I do not.  Do you?”  
  
“I know the absolute basics.  Worked with a cubi for almost eight years; you pick up things.”  Pain so acute it brought water to her eyes.  The ferret looked taken aback by her sudden wincing, and dragging her nails along the table briefly in reflex.  “Yeah, I think we should probably do that now before the waitress gets back.”  
  
“That would be desirable, yes.”  Domino described the process of creating a basic filter, and despite the simplicity when it was done, she was relieved enough to sigh in contentment.  It wasn’t all that different from the trauma coping mechanism the adventurer school had taught: focus your mind, and push away the undesired emotions.  She could still feel particularly intense emotions, but it was like background chatter rather than a cacophony now.  “Thank you.”  
  
“No problem.”  The waitress emerged with their menus, and Evgenija found hers had a variety of bone-marrow specific dishes.  She leaned the laminated paper backed with leather down enough to give a raised eyebrow look to the ferret, who seemed to be only looking at his own half-heartedly.  “Hmm?”  
  
“My menu seems… rather specific.”  
  
“It’s actually a menu used for a type of mythos that visit occasionally.  They feed primarily on the marrow of whales, but have our tiny morsels as snacks when they’re around.”  
  
“But how would she know?”  
  
“You’re a lammergeier,” Domino said as if it answered everything.  “You guys eat bone marrow a lot, don’t you?”  
  
“There are many of my kind here, then?”  
  
“A few.  Mostly transitioning on their way to Kebre.  Good guys, hard workers.”  Domino snapped his menu shut and held it up for the waitress who had returned without the vulture even noticing.  “I’ll just have some boudin balls and water.”  
  
Evgenija quickly scoured for something as the waitress looked for her.  “Um, bone marrow pate on wheat crackers, and cranberry juice, please.”  The waitress nodded, and took her menu.  With the uncomfortable topic of emotion filters passed, the two sat in silence.  
  
“So,” Domino said, breaking the silence.  “After this, I was thinking we get you to a salon to clean you up, then a tailor to get you something ‘decent’,” the finger quotes thing looked even more ridiculous when the person attempting it had only one hand.  “And then off to the immigration station to get you a visa.”  
  
“What makes you think I do not have a visa?”  Evgenija arched a brow, and put as much drawl into her her voice as possible.  
  
“Well,” the ferret started to tick off reasons on his four fingers.  “One, you’re a Cubi and we don’t let those wander around unescorted.”  The vulture tried to avoid flinching with limited success.  That seemed obvious in hindsight; who in their right mind would let a foreign shapeshifter go unwatched? “Two, you wouldn’t be so obviously filthy if you had gone through immigration; they clean you up as part of the delousing.”  
  
“Delousing?”  Now that was just insulting!  
  
“Yeah.  We had a moncholio outbreak six years ago from Kebrian fleas.  Not risking that again, hoo boy.”  Oh.  She’d read about that outbreak.  It had been spun as an amusing slice of the suffering of the government’s enemies.  “And three, your stolen dress doesn’t have pockets for a visa, and you have no purse.”  
  
“What makes you think I stole the dress?”  
  
“The tags are still on, ma chère.”  The vulture’s blood ran cold.  She hastily felt around the dress and sure enough ,there was an adhesive tag on the back.  “Don’t worry about it, this ain’t the first time this has happened.  You’re on the run from the secret police, yeah?”  
  
She blinked.  “What?”  
  
“Yeah, we get like six or seven of you guys a year when I was last in the bureaucratic office.  We usually keep you around if you’re useful, or put you on a ship to the Union or Kalpakstan if you’re not.  We only send you back if you’re crazy beyond all reason.”  
  
Evgenija didn’t have time to respond as their meal had arrived.  She still wasn’t hungry, but ate out of politeness.  The pate was indeed good.  Domino had to fork is boudin balls and chew them whole due the lack of his hand.  “Thank you,” the vulture said at length when her crackers and pate were gone.  “You didn’t have to help, and you did.”  
  
“Technically all I’ve done is feed you food you don’t strictly need to survive.  Try thanking me after we get you sorted at the immigration office, hmm?”  The waitress brought the check, and Domino started fishing around in his bag before pulling out an alarmingly feminine coinpurse.  “Let’s see… aha, checkbook.”  The waitress graciously held the check for the ferret as he wrote it out, even before he had to try fumbling around with it, and left with… pearls for her tip.  
  
“Your currency is pearls?”  Again with the arched brow, if she kept making this face it would stick.  Her mother had told her so.  
  
“Hmm?  Oh, no.  The pearls were a gift.  That’s how we tip in Ti’baltr.  Small gifts, maybe adding a meal of their choice to our bill so they can eat, stuff like that.”  
  
“But would not money be more directly helpful?”  The ferret shook his head, put the purse in his bag, and stood up.  
  
“Money practically grows on trees in Ti’baltr.  Why give money when you can give something a person may cherish their whole lives?  I bet she’s going to make earrings out of those pearls.  She’d look good in ‘em.”  The vulture tilted her whole head at the one-eyed, one-handed ferret who helped complete strangers and gave pearls as gifts while projecting emotions that she’d expect of a trauma patient.  “What?”  
  
  
“You confuse me, Domino.”  The ferret grinned.  
  
“Means I’m still doing my job right, I guess.  Come on, I know a salon nearby who will love having having a feathered customer.”


	4. Just Say Yes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Domino's too good for his own health, and there aren't nearly enough therapists in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Ti'baltic accent is basically New Orleans Cajun, and there won't be any phonetic spelling in this fic so you'll have to use your imagination.

**Chapter 4- Just Say Yes**  
  
    She was almost like a younger Urd, Domino considered.  So stiff, so ‘proper’.  Before Domino had spent a near-decade wearing her down, sanding down the rough edges.  Maybe she’d find someone to help her with that.  If he could help her do that…  maybe Urd’s ghost wouldn’t hate him so much for leaving her alone.  
  
    Alone in the cold water, to be picked at by fishes.  
  
    The ferret worked through the sentiment, guiding the girl to what had once been one of his favorite parts of town.  Rainbow Road; a neighborhood as old as the city, and every bit as glamorous as the name implied.  Dominus had it built to spite the then governor of Kebre who had accused him of being unmanly for marrying a male.  The prevailing attitude of the neighborhood was ‘live as you wish, and tell everyone who tries to stop you where to shove it.’  
  
    The vulture girl, Evgenija, seemed taken aback by all the tropical-suited clothing people on Rainbow Road sported; at the vibrant colors, and the elaborate decorations.  He couldn’t blame her; on Rainbow Road, it was as if Mardis Gras never really ended.  Though people usually charged more than a necklace of beads to take their tops off.  
  
    “Ah, here we are.”  The ferret stopped the vulture, who was eyeing a statue of Dominus hefting Mikhail’s axe over his head, while standing on the decapitated head of the Dragon Rheroddra.  “Swoon’s Boutique,” he opened the frosted glass door to the fashionable hair salon  
  
    “Aren’t boutiques usually stores?”  
  
    “So help me,” came a frustrated growl from inside, that Domino recognized with a smile, “I will eat the facemeat of the next person to say that!”  The girl gave Domino a look that quite plainly questioned his sanity.  He gave her a winning smile, and pointed his stump inside.  She stepped in, hesitantly, and growing far more self conscious as she saw the shelves of designer hair and fur care products near the store, the booths with swivel chairs on metal poles, the _pink_ on everything.  
  
    “I immediately regret this decision, Domino.”  
  
    “Yeah yeah, they all say that.  Swoon!  Swoon, ma belle, where are you?”  Domino didn’t need to shout, but he did.  It helped get him excited for seeing Swoon, and forgetting the… things that had happened.  
  
    Swoon’s arrival was preceded by the clicking of heels on the linoleum floor.  Swoon came rushing around the corner, skidding a moment to stop herself.  Pink and orange were made as one in Swoon, an Angel Siamese-patterned cat.  She’d been a part of the business longer than Domino had been alive, or so she said.  Cats were narcissistic like that.  Garbed in a mermaid dress of tangerine orange, and no makeup despite her profession, she probably set off a negative reaction in the vulture woman.  Domino turned to check.  
  
    She actually seemed numb to it.  Like she just stopped being surprised by anything.  He’d have to try harder,  but later.  Swoon was approaching, her high heels clicking on the floor dangerously as she glared down at Domino with her orange eyes.  
  
    “Ma belle,” Domino tried to be charming in the face of Swoon’s ‘angry eyes’.  “Not happy to see your petit?”  She reached down, and picked him up under the arms.  Uh oh.  
  
    The cat put a hand on the bandage over his missing eye, which stung a bit.  Then she gave his stump of a left hand a look.  Not blinking once.  “You will tell me what did these things to you,” said the cat.  Her voice cold as the grave.  “And I am going to murder it.  Until it dies to death.”  
  
    “Heh.  Well, I think I lost my eye to an explosion.  And a shark took off the hand.  But I did not come by to set you upon my enemies, ma belle.”  
  
    “I could care less why you came here- Are you in hospital clothes?  Did you rampage your way out of the hospital again-” She started to shake him while lecturing him in Ti’baltic.  The old tongue.  The _old_ old tongue that he only understood because his grandmother had been a harpy about it.  Domino held up his hand and stump to try and get her to stop ranting.  
  
    “Ma belle, ma belle, listen.  I came because I need your help.”  The cat stopped her lecture and shaking, thank the gods, to glare at him.  “My new friend from Kebre requires the use of your magic.  She has a date with the immigration officials.”  
  
    “I cannot possibly see how this is more important than-” Swoon turned to look at Evgenija, and was going back to Domino when she double-taked, and screamed at the top of her lungs at Evgenija, backing away frantically while squeezing Domino to her chest.  
  
    Normally he wouldn’t complain but _ye gods_ his spine ached.  Swoon had somehow gotten ahold of a broom and was brandishing it like a sword at Evgenija.  “Do I really look that bad?”  The vulture woman sounded less ‘from on high’ and actually a bit hurt.  Oh now that just wouldn’t do.  
  
    “Ma belle,” Domino played up the gasping for breath bit.  “I can’t breathe.”  The Angel grudgingly let go of the ferret, letting him stand on his own again, and approaching Evgenija slowly.  Sizing the girl up from top to bottom, reaching out and touching a bit of the long, rather unkempt looking gray hair she had.  
  
    “It will not be easy,” Swoon admitted, letting the lock go.  The hair slowly fell back into place, crackling and popping all the way.  “But I can fix this.”  She pointed at the back room door, and pushed Evy in the direction.  “But it will take a while, even with my magic.  And you,” she whirled and jabbed Domino in the nose with the handle of her broomsword, “I am not done with you yet.  You will be here when I set her down to soak in one hour, understood?”  
  
    “Of course, ma belle.”  
  
    “Don’t you ‘ma belle’ me, Domino.  Not when I must be strong for your friend.”  The cat flipped her mane of pink hair, and strode off to the back room.  “Pray for me, petit.”  Domino smiled faintly, and sat down in one of the waiting chairs, occupying so little space in the tall-legs-sized chairs that he could rummage around his his bag to see what he had lost on the….  
  
    “The Harridan’s gone, Domino,” he told himself.  “She’s dead.  Get over it, you know that’s what everyone’ll say, get a head start.”  He couldn’t even really remember the night of the attack.  Or how much of the crew was lost aside from Urd.  Hell, he didn’t even know if the Antiquity had already arrived.  A ship of the line was a slow beast, especially when, if Marlyn was smart, she took an alternate route in lieu of Demon attack.  
  
    But then, it was Marlyn.  All brawn, some brain, no wit.  Dumb girl would probably charge into any potential attack, thinking she’d punch through.  And with the number of Demons in her crew, she would probably manage.  At an unknown amount of damage, unknown loss of life, and a VIP young and stupid enough to try helping.  
  
    The ferret hoped the kid got to town safe, and was with his foster family already.  Hyden was a nice kid, needed someone to talk to and he’d be perfectly happy for the time being.  But back to the bag; Domino found the rings for his right hand, and had to put them on with his teeth, changed his shirt from the virgin white hospital linen to his silk taupe shirt, not feeling up to changing his pants in Swoon’s shop with only one hand.  
  
    Not after last time.  Woo.  
  
    During this process, Domino noticed an unfortunate little consequence of being hospitalized.  His choker had been removed, which meant his stripes and eye had been visible in public.  Ugh.   And he’d been smiling too, hopefully the girl hadn’t minded his teeth.  From the den of spikes he’d seen in her mouth when she was eating, she probably didn’t.  Probably.  Maybe.  Hopefully.  
      
    At least the hospital staff hadn’t _broken_ it this time.  He was still hearing about breaking the last one from his grandmother.  Constructed of bones dyed red, black beads, and threaded with sinew, no one guessed it was actually a Creature-Being amulet; due to the gem that powered the morphing magic facing backward, and covered by his hair.  Easy to clasp, even with one hand.  
  
    And when done, the stripes of tan in his fur faded to the normal brown, his eye regained its rounded pupil, and his teeth shrank down and lost serration.  Was weird when the ‘fake’ you felt more natural than the original.  Perhaps that was how some Cubi felt.  At least no one he knew had seen him with his stripes out this time.  No one was going to buy the ‘impersonating a zebra’ thing twice.  
  
    Domino looked at his stump again, and sighed.  He’d lost bits of himself before, you simply didn’t go a career in the navy without getting cut a few times, but this time.…  He wondered if he even wanted to get the hand regenerated.  Or his eye.  Keeping them as reminders of Urd and the Harridan would be the poetic thing to do.  And the stupidly emotional thing to do, Urd would say.  
  
    And he’d have to explain to the rest of the family why he’d gone with prosthesis instead.  
  
     _It’s so easy to hide in the persona of being a fop, isn’t it.  Almost like you won’t have to attend Urd’s funeral in a few days._  
  
    Domino remembered now why the captain he had served under drank so much, all those years ago.  It made one's brain shut up.  So wrapped up in his thoughts, the ferret didn’t notice Swoon coming back into the room until she was picking him up again and sitting him in her lap, while she brushed at his hair.  
  
    “Ma belle,” he said sidelong to her, “I ain’t a kid, you know.”  
  
    “And when you stop coming to me looking like you ran through the jungle,” said the cat in a lofty tone, “I may believe you.”  The brush was traded for a fine comb, and Domino didn’t want to think too hard on where she kept all these implements.  “Are you going to tell me what happened now, petit?”  
  
    He didn’t want to.  Swoon was nice, kind of a bitch sometimes, but nice.  And he didn’t want to start talking about the ship.  About Urd.  About being alive when they weren’t.  Because then the rage would come back, and he didn’t know what he’d do.  “It’s… personal, Swoon.  I’ll tell you, I promise.  Just… not right now, okay?”  The combing stopped, and Swoon was hugging him.  Not the squeezing life-or-death embrace of earlier, but a normal hug.  
  
    “Its alright, petit.  You tell me when you want, okay?”  Domino put up his good hand to try returning the hug, difficult with her at his back and all.  “Is the girl related to it, at all?”  
  
    “No, she’s just a scared kid running from Kebre I found on the docks.  I couldn’t just let her bumble around all day like that and make a fool of herself before she realized we’d just accept her.  She’d never forgive me,” Swoon wouldn’t know he was referring to Urd when he said that.  Thankfully she wasn’t a Cubi.  “Did you happen to see her clan mark on her when you were cleaning her up?”  
  
    “Oui, it’s on her inner thigh, the mark of Kish’Ta.  Is not the Kebre Secret Police serving another Kish’Ta?”  
  
    “If I remember right, yeah.”  Maybe Theo was going insane at last.  One could only take daily political intrigue for so long before it began to affect their mind.  And Theo had been at it for three centuries.  “Hopefully neither of the resident clans have issues with her.”  
  
    “They should not.  She is young, and cannot help whom she is related to.”  The Angel let Domino go, and resumed combing.  “Will you be in town long, petit?”  
  
    “For a while, yes.”  Domino doubted the Company would trust him with another ship.  Or that he could captain another ship.  “Maybe long enough to see Mardis Gras this year.”  
  
    “It would be nice to go to with someone this year.”  He could hear the smile in her voice.  “My girls are all off getting their preparations done.”  
  
    “Has Aina been any trouble?”  Aina Kynaston, a swan phoenix Domino had pulled strings to get a job with Swoon.  The two had been having workplace spats last he’d been in town.  
  
    “She was angry at the world,” Swoon flicked her hand flippantly.  “Anger comes and goes, and hers is gone.  She’s almost earned my respect, though she cannot perm to save her life.”  The cat pushed Domino off her lap and stood up.  “Your friend will be ready in another hour, and if you bring her to me looking as she did again,” the Angel cat narrowed her eyes dangerously, leaned down, and placed one clawed finger under the ferret’s chin, “then a certain petit will have to get the deep clean by _all_ of my girls.  Why, such a filthy ferret may need multiple soaks.”  
  
    “You are so cruel to me, ma belle,” Domino replied in a mock hurt tone, not at all concerned with the claw near his neck.  The cat stood up and walked back to the door to the rear of the store, putting some sashay into her gait.  
  
    “Only because you love it.”  She wasn’t wrong.  
  
    The hour came and went.  And when Swoon emerged with Evgenija, it was as if night and day had switched for the girl.  Her feathers were clean, a new coat of dye added to her head, neck, and shoulders.  Giving her a dipped in blood sort of look; enforced by her hair being dyed a slightly darker shade of red.  
  
    Swoon pushed the two from her store afterward, claiming she needed a nap from all the hard work.  It might have been true, but with how cats were with naps….  
  
    The next stop for the duo was the tailor, who couldn’t fathom why the vulture girl needed a new dress; she was already wearing something from Gloria Hoo, after all.  Domino cut her off from snapping at the poor skunk tailor about ‘proper’ clothes, and said that she needed a more regal look to her.  
  
    While she was being fitted, Domino ran next door to pick up some shoes for the girl.  Nevermind he’d been going barefoot all day.  It didn’t bother him unless he walked on glass or something.  Guessing foot size wasn’t Domino’s thing, but the store owner assured the ferret that they had resizing shoes in stock.  Wonderful things with a mana-filled gem that allowed them to fit their wearers perfectly.  And a price tag to match.  
  
    One did not skimp when being charitable, though.  So some heeled sandals were bought for the girl, and Dom returned to the tailor… who was having difficulty getting Evgenija out of the dressing room.  
  
    “Madame,” the skunk man implored, “I am sure Mr. Ti’balt will love the dress, but please come out.”  
  
    “I will not, it was bad enough to go around dressed like a medieval wench.  This dress makes me look like a loose woman,” came the indignant voice of the vulture succubus.  “I refuse!”  
  
    “My good man,” the ferret interrupted.  “Is there an issue?”  The skunk adjusted his glasses and pushed air out through his nose.  
  
    “She says she wants a regal look, I give her a dress suit in a nice dark red.”  
  
    “Ah, I see the problem.”  Domino set his own bag, and the box with the shoes aside, while looking through the aisles.  “She meant regal more in the traditional sense.  Floor length dresses, that sort of thing.”  
  
    The skunk gave a grunt of disapproval, but wisely chose not to give advice.  “I’ll see what I can find.  Will we be fitting you as well today, Mr. Ti’balt?”  
  
    “Nah, not feeling quite up to it today.”  The tailor nodded and vanished into the clothes while Domino pretended to be examining shirts to keep his mind off more unpleasant topics.  
  
    “Domino,” came the voice of the vulture in the dressing room, seemingly calmed down.  “You said the only nobles in Ti’baltr were the Ti’balts… and that man alleges that you are one.”  
  
    “You haven’t given me your surname either, Evgenija.”  Domino saw himself in a mirror and noticed a red flower that Swoon must have snuck into his hair without his knowledge.  He coouldn’t identify it, so pulled it out and placed it in his bag.  “I didn’t think it’d be an issue.”  
  
    “You’re part of the ruling family, and being exceptionally charitable.  What should I think about this?”  
  
    “That I’m either disgraced in the public light so that my being nice to you won’t matter politically, or that I’m leading by example?”  The ferret looked around, not seeing the skunk anywhere, and stole into the vacant dressing room to change pants.  “I mean really.  You’re a Cubi.  You can read thoughts and emotions; and I don’t have a mind shield, so you would know my intentions by now.”  
  
    “I’m sorry,” she said quickly.  “It’s just that… my mother taught me to be suspicious of men who seem too eager to help.”  
  
    “I see.”  The ferret wondered who had hurt the girl’s mother so bad to be suspicious like that.  “Well rest assured.  I just want to help you out.”  He just got the hospital linens into his bag when the skunk returned with a long dress and knocked on Evgenija’s door.  
  
    She didn’t react badly to the dress, and minutes later, came out.  Nearly the entire back had to be exposed due to her wings, and the unique tail lammergeiers sported; like a diamond shape.  To account for that, the dress had rigid wire in the front, along with a narrow strip that went around the back under the shoulders for support.  A proper floor-length dress, with semi-detached sleeves.  A purple-red color, with a slightly darker shade along the hem and around the bust.  
  
    The skunk had to fit it to her slightly, and after the sandals were added, she was nearly taller than the dressing room door.  But she seemed to like the dress; at least she was smiling a bit after it.  Less so when she saw the price tag.  
  
    “Domino, this- No, I can’t ask you to spend- I’ve never even seen that much-”  But while she ranted, Domino wrote out the check, and handed it to the skunk, who in turn handed him the receipt.  “I mean the food, the salon, this- how can you even think to afford this?”  
  
    “It could be that I’m fabulously wealthy you know,” Domino pushed her in the direction of the door.  “And for all you know, I could spend my days helping people I find at the docks.  Now come on, the immigration station closes for lunch soon.”  He wasn’t wealthy.  And given the unknown number of funerals he had to pay for, and the lost ship… well, he wanted to spend money while he still had it.  
  
    The immigration offices were rather empty; the morning surge had already gone, but there will still some stragglers.  While Evgenija looked about awkwardly, the ferret casually slipped under the desk and started trotting to the back offices.  None of the desk workers noticed a thing.  
  
    “Hey, Aunt Flo, you still here?”  Domino’s aunt Florine, called Flo purely as teasing by the family, was seated in her well-decorated office with her walls of accolades and her mahogany desk, and comfortable swivel chair that she never let anyone else sit in.    A ferret similar to Domino, but with a cosmetically added facemask and red hair bleached to pink, she was dressed in a pantsuit, and had a stack of paperwork to her side.  
  
    “Domino,” she said, not looking up.  “Out of the hospital already?”  
  
    “Yeah, them doctors sure know their medicine.”  Domino slunk into the office, being careful not to come too close to her desk lest she go for the letter opener.  
  
    “And let me guess, you came to visit me at work so close to lunch because you need something.  Again.”  
  
    “You know me too well, Auntie dearest.”  The older woman pointed her pen at the male warningly.  “Aww come on, Aunt Flo, you know I wouldn’t bother you unless it was important.”  She stopped writing on the item of paperwork that had been occupying her attention to recline in her chair, arms crossed.  “We got another Kebrian on the run from the secret police.  A succubus, even.  One of Theo’s clan.”  
  
    “Ugggh,” the she-ferret rubbed her face, likely seeing the paperwork the process would cause.  “Okay.  I’ll do it for you, my beloved nephew, on one condition.”  
  
    “Is it I stop my feud with Marlyn, because I am still upset about that time she set me on fire-”  
  
    “It was an accident!”  The woman leaned forward and shook her arms emphatically.  “No one knew the wind would carry it that far!”  
  
    “Six months in a burn ward, Aunt Flo.”  He did his best to look dour on the subject.  Truth was he never blamed Marlyn for the accident; just used it as an excuse to torment her.  She was a bitch, and deserved it.  
  
    “Argh, but that’s not what I was going to ask.”  Flo put on her ‘serious mode’ face, no silliness in her expression or tone.  “I’ll get her a visa, in exchange for you being her chaperone until she’s out of the probation period.”  That actually surprised Domino, and it must have shown in his face.  “We can’t send her to one of the native clans, they’ll just shove her off to their Academy, where she might see Theo again, and they work things out, and bam, she’s back in Kebre.  You know how Cubi work, and you’ve obviously got nothing better to do right now-”  
  
    Domino glared at her.  Some of the more administrative family members tended to forget that lost ships and personnel weren’t really just numbers.  Sometimes a death glare would work on reminding them of the Being factor.  
  
    “Okay.  Touchy subject, sorry.  But I’m not budging on this.  The Company has enough trouble with the succession claim, let alone a Kish’Ta succubus.  Killing two birds with one stone seems appropriate is all.”  
  
    “I don’t follow.”  It was Flo’s turn to look surprised.  “What?”  
  
    “The Company rep at the hospital didn’t tell you?”  
  
    “Tell me what,” the ferret’s tone was colored with frustration at the cliche the two were living out.  But the older female got an evil look on her face.  
  
    “Oh man, I hope someone has a camera when you find out.  Going to be priceless.  But I ain’t going to spoil the surprise,” she flicked her hand at the door.  “Now git, while I get the papers for this cubi girl you dragged in here.”  Frustrated, annoyed, feeling dread the likes of which normally preceded a press conference, Domino returned to the lobby, and to the vulture girl.  
  
    “Where have you been,” she asked in a angry hiss.  “The lines have been empty and I have no idea what to do, and the workers are giving me odd looks, and-”  Domino stopped her by holding up his good hand.  
  
    “Relax, I’ve been greasing the wheels of politics.  They should have a visa for you in no time.”  Sure enough, one of the workers called her up to the desk by name, and the two started talking rapidly.  Mere minutes later, they were leaving the office with the vulture’s new visa, and en route to Domino’s apartment near the wharf.  
  
    “I still cannot believe how forward that bureaucrat was,” Evgenija grumbled.  “Asking to see my clan mark, as if I were some tavern wench.”  
  
    “It’s policy, ma chère,” Domino replied, ascending the stairs to his apartment while several burly Beings were carrying down furniture.  Someone was apparently moving out.  “Not his fault your mark is in a bad spot.  At least they got a woman to confirm, eh?”  
  
    “Thank goodness for small mercies.  I hope your apartment is not in an unfit state for company.”  
  
    “My dear girl, I haven’t been home in six months, it should be just as I left it.”  Unless his brother used it as a spot to sleep off a hangover.  Completely possible.  They continued to ascend while Beings descended with more furniture.  From the quality of the stuff, Dom was suspecting someone from his floor was moving out.  Weird, because the apartments on his floor had the best view.  
  
    And then he saw two bears hauling an armoire; _his_ armoire, the armoire that his first girlfriend had locked him in for two hours during one of their fights.  He knew better than to attack the workers for their thievery.  Don’t antagonize the common man, and all that, so he moved like a man possessed up the stairs to find the brains.  
  
    “Easy there, lads, don’t want to scratch the finish,” came a voice from the top floor.  Turning the corner, hair on end, a vicious growl burning in his throat, Domino saw his baby brother helping a feline Being get a coffee table out of his door.  Demo, the barely-out-of-his-teens ferret wore an unbuttoned floral patterned silk shirt, board shorts, and open-toe sandals, completely in line with his personality as a freeloading, carefree burden of a person.  The younger ferret noticed his brother, and then the state of rage said brother was expressing, and any lackadaisy attitude present in the situation vanished.  
  
    Demo held up his hands placatingly, backing away from the door as Domino approached.  “Now bro, I can explain,” came the far too often heard started to how most conversations between the two went.  Domino had a decent idea of what likely happened; Demo had lost a game of cards after wagering his absent brother’s furniture.  It had happened before.  And Domino didn’t care to hear how the ‘cards totally cheated’ Demo this time.  Instead, he started running down the hall after his brother who in turn was running away.  “Dude, chill!  It isn’t my fault this time!”  
  
    The two ferrets made quite a sight, running between the legs of the taller people, in and out of apartments, up and down the stairs, around the rooftop pool, and back down to Domino’s apartment, when the younger one tripped.  Domino pounced, eager to lay into his freeloader brother before getting his stuff back, but was caught around the middle before he made contact.  
  
    “Easy there, captain,” said the soothing voice of Zoos as he held the snarling, raging ferret trying to claw his way through the air to the cowering younger one.  “He’s being honest this time, not his fault.”  Evgenija stood off to the side, looking confused and alarmed, while Domino took several deep breaths to calm himself down.  Zoos, seeing the calm put him back on his feet, then caught him once more as he lunged at Demo a second time.  “Jesus nailed to a cross, captain, he’s telling the truth!”  
  
    “If it’s not his fault,” Domino snarled, “whose is it?”  
  
    “Well, um.”  Zoos turned his head to look into the apartment for a moment.  “I guess your dad’s?  He’s moving you to a bigger house, um, said you’d need it.”  Impossible, Domino thought, his father would never give him a bigger house.  The old man was too into the ‘earn it by your own merit’ attitude that had prompted Domino to join the Navy.  “Um, I guess since Demo’s a bit shellshocked…”  
  
    “Teeth,” the freeloading ferret said, rocking back and forth on the ground, “so many teeth.”  
  
    “...it’d be best if the kid explained.”  Wait, what?  Domino was too surprised to maintain the pretense of being angry, as Zoos bodily turned the ferret to face into his own apartment.  Standing there, looking awkward among the laborers was the Demon kid from days ago.  Hyden, he remembered the kid’s name suddenly.  Looking like he’d been dressed by Demo, and holding a Ti’baltr tourism brochure.  
  
    “Um, hi captain,” the young ram waved.  “I’m sorry about your ship.  Um.  The people at the Company headquarters asked who I wanted to be my foster family, and I suggested you, and they said yes?  I’m sorry if I made you mad…”  Jesus, the kid was doing the ‘Doe Eyes’ technique and it was making Domino feel weak and _emotional_.  Like he’d done a dance on the kid’s birthday cake while wearing golf cleats.  
  
    The kid was young, and the Company would want him put into school, and vaccinated regularly, and he’d need to get one of his Demon friends to ask about all the things the kid would need that were different with his growing up.  And Evgenija, too, having to import Cubi books to get her a grip of her powers, and maybe even a tutor, in addition to whatever career she decided to take, on top of the time needed to really grieve the loss of Urd and the Harridan.  
  
    He really didn’t want to do it.  Uh uh.  Nope.  But…  
  
    Domino gave the kid a warm smile he certainly didn’t feel.  “Of course, kid.  You coulda just asked, you know.”


	5. Friend?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new house, and a new family.

**Chapter 5- Friend?**  
  
    The gryphon cart ride with the Captain and his lady friend was awkward beyond all reason.  The vulture woman… she was _scary_ , scarier than Grandfather had been, Hyden realized.  Black and red feathers on her wings, her hair, and headfeathers near blood red, in a fancy dress, but her eyes were baleful.  She had given him a death glare until he buttoned up the shirt Mr. Demo had bought for him.  
  
    She hadn’t spoken much, and only to the Captain.  Hyden had been too afraid to introduce himself to her.  Speaking of the Captain; he looked awful.  His hand, and eye missing, slumping when he didn’t know Hyden was watching.  His smiles… there was something different.  Like the smile Oresse had put on right after Auriga brought home news on the back-alley murder of Hyden’s father.  Covering up how you felt inside.  
  
    “So, Hyden,” the little ferret started as the gryphon changed directions, out of the big hustle and bustle of the city and to what was likely a suburb.  “Had a fun day?”  
  
    “Well,” Hyden started, hesitantly.  Rubbing his arms, where his fleece was frighteningly thin.  “Mr. Demo showed me around town.  There’s a lot of really nice looking places.  And before he took me to get processed, he um.”  The ram tried to retell them memory without stammering and blushing too much. “He took me to the beach.  There were, um.  Lots of people there.”  
  
    “Yeah, that’s typical for beaches.”  From the Captain’s tone, he didn’t understand why Hyden was reacting this way, then suddenly leaned over to the ram.  “Wait, did he take you to the one by Rainbow Road?  The one with the star-shaped fences?”  The ram nodded mutely, while Domino stood up on the seat to turn and shout at the cart behind them.  “Demo!  You asshole!  I’m going to rip your face off!”  
  
    “Dude!  He’s a Demon, I thought he’d be cool with it!”  Came the distant reply of the younger ferret.  Domino made a rude gesture to him, and sat down, running his hand through his hair.  
  
    “Explain to me what your brother did, Domino,” said the vulture woman.  Her accent was weird.  Rolling ‘r’s, flat-voiced, but almost as rigid as Hyden’s own.  She sat with her hands in her lap, her back straight as a rod, her wings folded over her torso and her backwings flat against her head.  
  
    “Demo, the idiot, took a minor to a nudist beach.”  The ram’s face burned, and he folded his wings over his head to hide away from the other two.  
  
    “You have a nudist beach?”  The vulture-woman’s tone was positively icy.  While somehow also offended.  
  
    “It’s a region of no-clothes necessary.  To accommodate mythos who can’t wear clothes.  But also for those feeling adventurous yesss- Waitaminute.”  Hyden felt small fingers poke at his wings.  “It’s nearly three in the afternoon.  How long were you there?”  
  
“Mr. Demo said he wanted to introduce me to all his friends…”  The ram could feel the air around them getting colder, and the growing growl coming from where Domino sat.  
  
“He didn’t try getting you to… you know?”  Hyden pulled his wings tighter around himself, rather than answer.  Which seemed to be an answer in itself, because Domino talked again.  “Evgenija, ma chère, watch Hyden for a bit would you?  I need to talk with my brother.”  
  
“Of course, Domino,” said the woman, whose name was Evgenija apparently.  The ram heard a creek of wood, a frightened squawk, and Mr Demo soon screaming about ‘the teeth!’  He emerged from his wing cocoon to see Domino no longer in the cart.  Turning to look at the cart behind them, he saw the two ferrets rolling around in the second cart, while Mr. Zoos tried to stop their fight.  
  
“Did he…?”  
  
“I am surprised at the accuracy of his jump, yes.”  The vulture woman held out her hand, limply, “I am Evgenija Morozova.  We have not been properly introduced.”  Hyden stared at the limp hand for a second, pondering how to shake it, before twisting his arm to grab it sideways and shake it horizontally.  
  
“I’m Hyden Bloodstone.  Pleasure to meet you.”  The female looked puzzled at his attempt at a handshake.  “Um, did I do it wrong?”  
  
“It is considered polite,” she said slowly, as if to a child, “to kiss a lady’s hand on being introduced to her.”  
  
“Why?”  He tilted his head, thinking on it a second.  “Oh!  Is it because it exposes the back of the neck?  That’s why they bow in some countries, right?  But why do it for only women.  Are women in charge where you come from?”  
  
“Curiosity killed the cat, little Demon.” Memories came back with that nickname.  Ms. Zed.  Always willing to answer a question.  Helping where others didn’t.  Stealing him away from his family.  The ram shook the memories away.  “It is simply good manners.”  
  
“But it has to serve a function, right?  It can’t just be a thing you do, where did it come from, then?”  The woman gave him a glare, and the ram scooted away to the absolute edge of his seat.  
  
“I presume,” Evgenija had the tone of indulging a topic she found unworthy of her time like what Uncle Rayl did whenever he had to speak to Hyden about anything, “that it was originally a means to compliment the woman.  The gesture has romantic connotations, you see.”  
  
“Oh… sorry.”  He’d unintentionally called her _ugly_ , no wonder she was so irritated with him.  “Should I try again?”  She sighed, and offered her hand a second time, which Hyden gave a light peck too.  “I’ll try to remember that.  We don’t kiss hands in Vecenstein.”  
  
“Vecenstein,” the vulture looked deep in thought for a moment.  “Ister Union, right?  Near the cost?”  
  
    “Yeah, you know it?”  Maybe she had been there recently, maybe she had news.  
  
    “I’ve never been there, but I’m from Veldun in Kebre.  We live across the mountains from the Ister Union.”  A twinge of disappointment burned in the ram.  Veldun was eighty miles inland, far too far away from Vecenstein’s neighborhood to have heard news.  “Is something wrong?”  
  
    “Hmm?  Oh Captain Ti’balt told me that Vecenstein had started an anti-Creature thing.  I’m hoping for news of my family doing okay.”  
  
    “If they are Demons, they should be fine.”  Her tone was of polite assurance, so Hyden didn’t read too much into it.  “You are here in Ti’baltr… why?”  
  
The ram blinked, and flushed given the awkwardness of his arrival. “Um.  I was kidnapped.  And they can’t take me back because Vecenstein isn’t safe to visit yet.”  It was Evgenija’s turn to blink.  
  
“You… were kidnapped.”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“You’re taking it well?”  
  
    He shrugged.  “The person who did it meant well, even if she was wrong.  And if I was there, I’d be too weak to fight back.  Probably get someone in my family killed trying to save me.”  He wanted to be sad.  To be angry.  But it had been nearly a week since Ms. Zed had taken him away.  He’d had time to think.  “Plus, I get to go back, if my Mom survived anyway.”  
  
    He hoped she was okay.  That the new baby was okay.  That even Mr. Cral, Oresse’s new husband was okay; he tried to be nice at least.  The vulture woman reached over and patted his knee.  “It will be alright.”  She sounded genuinely sympathetic.   Hyden smiled at her, less afraid than before the conversation started.  
  
The first thing that caught his attention, nearly twenty minutes later when the gryphon carts touched down, was the fragrant smell in the air.  Demons of all kinds had powerful noses; it was needed to find prey.  Evgenija smelled it too, and the two of them spent a few moments sniffing the air, looking around for the source of it.  “Sandalwood,” the gryphon chimed, when he saw the ram and vulture looking like fools.  “The trees are bewitched with Phoenix magic to grow faster, it also makes the smell more powerful.  You guys are lucky to have a house here.”  
  
“Fragrant trees,” Evgenija huffed as she left the cart.  “This land is mad.”  Hyden couldn’t disagree with her; even if he personally liked the nutty smell.  The second cart landed, and after that the heavy transport carts that had multiple gryphons pulling them.  So caught up with the smell of the trees; Hyden hadn’t looked around much.  
  
A forest road, beaten into the soil by feet over many decades, perhaps centuries.  Occasionally trees seemed grown oddly to hang glass balls over the center of the path- lights, perhaps?  A sharp hill was on the side people were unloading things, and Hyden saw a brief tunnel cut into the landmark, edged in stone.  Was their house underground?  He was told those were easy to keep warm, some people built them in the coldest parts of the Union.  
  
The young ram hopped out of the cart, and trotted back to the laborers.  They were good people, who didn’t seem scared of him at all.  Which was nice!  “Can I help?  I’d like to help.”  The Beings looked at each other, unsure, but seeing Mr. Zoos still trying to pull Domino off Mr. Demo…  
  
“Jesus nailed to a cross, captain!”  Screamed the dog.  “Let him go already!”  
  
“Not the face!  I need that to earn money!”  Poor Mr. Demo shouted.  
  
...they wisely just handed him an endtable, which he was able to carry on his own, and told him to put it where everyone else was putting things.  Happy to help, Hyden trotted past the scene of continual violence and through the tunnel.  
  
On the other side was a clearing in the forest, with what at first looked to be a second hill, but turned out to be a strangely designed house that seemed to have grass growing on the roof.  The house was surrounded by a porch of smooth, red wood with no railing; an elaborate wind chime hung from the corner.  The walls were white, but occasionally decorated by minimalist details of small things; a feral squirrel, a leaf, an orange, and more.  
  
Hyden fell in love, eager to get in, explore the rooms, find which one was his, then go out and walk through the woods.  He’d never walked in a forest before, especially not a tropical one.  He wondered if they had wolves.  The gentle poke of a laborer moving a coffee table woke the ram from his hypnotic state.  
  
In between runs, Hyden checked out the house.  Strangely, it had lights hanging from the ceiling rather than fixed to the walls.  There were also bladed contraptions fixed to the lights, of various degrees of ornamentation given the room.  They could be turned on to spin around the lights, producing a slight breeze from their movement.  Hyden assumed you were supposed to throw people into them if they attacked you; but then why didn’t they have sharpened edges.  Maybe the edges only came out when it was spinning, he thought.  It’d certainly make it safer to clean them.  
  
A lot of the house was constructed of wood; odd given nearly everything in the big city had been made of metal or stone, and Mr. Demo said wood was a luxury since most of the island was covered in sandalwood, which was expensive and hard to replace even with magic.  The house was only one level, but spread out.  Each of the bedrooms had a bath near it; but with no buckets for hauling water.  There wasn’t even a well outside, from what he could see.  Just a shed.  He’d have to ask Evgenija, who seemed to be busy placing things after the laborers finished moving them, or the Captain, who was still mauling Mr. Demo.  
  
Mr. Zoos was getting obviously tired, so Hyden put down the reclining chair he’d been carrying to go fix them.  “Captain,” he said imploringly.  “Mr. Demo’s sorry, and you’ve been at this for forty-five minutes, please stop.”  The two ferrets paused in their melee to look at him, Mr. Demo obviously the worse for wear.  “Um.  Sorry?”  
  
“For your sake,” Domino grumbled, spitting out a piece of Demo’s floral shirt, and crawling out of the cart.  Mr. Zoos gave the ram an appreciative look, and checked on Mr. Demo briefly.  The maimed ferret strolled through the tunnel, with the ram lugging a chair behind him.  
  
After that, Domino helped Evgenija place furniture.  Given it was meant for an apartment, not a house, there was decidedly less than needed.  Domino gave his bed to Evgenija, as she was a woman and had been through a lot that day, and told to Hyden that they would sleep on the couch and reclining chair respectively.  With their work done, the laborers left with their large cart, leaving the ferrets, half-Demon, succubus and Mr. Zoos to talk.  
  
“So,” Domino started.  “What’s the plan for the boy?”  
  
“Getting the paperwork to enroll him in school will take a couple days; during which you will obtain his supplies, and additional furniture.”  
  
“With what money?”  Hyden and Evgenija looked mutually surprised.  “I have a lot of unknown expenses to pay, Demo.  Funerals, a sunken ship, lost cargo, an unknown fine, plus all this?”  
  
“Come on, Dommie,” the well-tenderized ferret made a flippant gesture while moving to sit on the couch.  “Would Dad leave you out in the cold with all this?”  
  
“Do not ask questions to which you don’t want the answer, Demo.”  The Captain paced by, and pushed his brother’s feet off the coffee table.  “You’re lucky grandad left you so much money.  I’ve had to work for mine.”  
  
“Accepting a foster child earns you a monthly stipend, along with the stipend from being the chaperone to a foreigner,” Mr. Zoos said, reading from a card.  “Your dad gave me some notes on what the new policies were because he knew Demo’d forget.”  
  
“Am I at least getting the security deposit back from my apartment?”  
  
“Well, the landlord is contesting it….”  
  
“So no.  Wonderful.”  Hyden rubbed his arm awkwardly, and shifted his weight from one leg to another as Domino paced, and Evgenija sat primly on a dining chair.  “Demo, shame of a brother, take Hyden out and explore the woods.  Show him the old haunts we used to have around here.  Don’t take him anywhere risque.”  
  
“I’m not your babysitter- okay, right!” Demo’s tone changed mid sentence seeing the death glare Domino gave him, hopping off the couch and leading Hyden out the sliding glass door to the porch.  The youthful ferret led him out through the grass, which Hyden hesitated in entering.  
  
He knew it was just a type of plant, but it _looked_ like a tiny forest of green knives growing from the ground and that was actually kind of cool.  But also terrifying.  His first steps into it were hesitant, but as he started to move through the grass, it became pleasant.  Kind of tickled if he went too fast, though.  
  
“Yo, nark!”  The ram looked up from examining a different type of grass that seemed vastly longer and ended in a colorful yellow tumor to see Demo jumping from branch to branch on a large, thick-trunked tree.  “Ever climbed a tree?”  
  
“Um, no?”  
  
“Then get up here, it’s awesome exercise.”  Hyden ran, happy to have someone to ‘hang out’ with.  Even if they called him a nark.  He had no idea what it meant, but it couldn’t be good.  He got to the base of the tree, and looked up where Demo was hanging upside down from a branch.    
  
“Is there anything I should do?”  
  
The ferret gave him a look like the ram had grown three additional heads.  “You grab a branch, pull yourself up, climb up.”  The ram tilted his head to the side, confused for a moment.  “Think ladder.”  That helped instantly, and Hyden started to slowly ascend the tree.  The ferret was swinging while upside down by the time Hyden got to a branch close to his level.  
  
“Okay.  How do I do… that?”  
  
“First thing is, you grab the branch, and hold tight with your lower legs.  Then you fall backward.  Simple as pie.”  Hyden wilted, thinking of all the times he had tried baking and failed horribly, but followed the instructions.  It seemed simple at least.  
  
And instead of hanging upside down, the ram fell off the branch and hit every branch on the way down, landing face first into the dirt.  “Owwwww…,” the ram whined.  It didn’t hurt terribly bad, but failing in front of someone was always worse than failing in general.  
  
“Frig frig frig frig!”  Demo hastily climbed down to check on him, pushing Hyden in to a sitting position.  “You okay kid?  Please don’t have a broken arm or something, Dom will murder me-ee!”  The ram flexed his arms, and while they still stung, he couldn’t feel any broken bones  
  
“I think I’m okay.  Just a few bruises.”  
  
“And your fur is dark enough that they won’t show.  Woo.”  The ferret sighed, wiping sweat off his forehead.  “Had me scared for a second there.  Maybe we should do something less dangerous than… climbing trees.”  
  
“I’m sorry.…”  The ram’s ears went down low, and he slumped.  Ruined another fun thing by being a screwup.  
  
“Hey, not your fault.  Not everyone gets it on their first try.”  The ferret smiled and laughed a bit, trying to make the ram feel better.  “I didn’t.  Dom got in so much trouble with mom when I fell out my first time.  Granted, I lost some teeth.”  
  
Demo showed him some less hazardous activities, teaching the ram how to tell the difference between sandalwood trees and the far-rarer fruit-bearing trees.  They were out of season he said, but come the rainy season, they’d have flowers and eventually fruit.  That led to a brief explanation of the rainy and dry seasons.  After that, Demo showed him how to find monkeys in the forest, and answered the uncomfortable question of if they were good to eat.  
  
“They’re a bit stringy, but you can eat ‘em, yeah.  No laws against it, you just gotta do it barehanded,” the ferret explained, weirded out by the question.  “It’s sort of a Demon tradition that everyone adopted.  If you want to eat the monkey, you catch the monkey.  Not easy to do, because they’re smart, they’re never alone, and most aren’t afraid of anyone.”  
  
Hyden looked at the monkeys, five fingered, lanky, covered in shaggy brown fur, with hairless faces, big eyes, prehensile tails, sharp teeth in their smiles.  They moved through the trees silently and with agility that surprised him given their odd construction.  It was then that he made himself a promise.  One day he would catch a monkey.  And eat it.  
  
There was much exploration to be had in the jungle, Hyden learned.  Demo showed him a swimming hole that he and Domino had used growing up. Apparently the house had originally belonged to their parents, but had been abandoned in favor of the Ti’balt palace when it came their time to rule.  The ram admitted he didn’t know how to swim, and Demo offered to teach him but hastily retracted the offer after giving the pond a once-over.  He didn’t give the reason, but Hyden suspected some water-dwelling animal had moved in.  
  
An abandoned mine was next, but Demo was leery of letting the ram explore it, fearful of Domino’s retaliation.  Hyden had been practicing the ‘adorable eyes’ technique, however.  And the ferret’s willpower melted under his stare.  “Mind your head,” the ferret said not having to duck at all under the boards that half covered the door.  
  
“Why did this mine get abandoned,” asked the ram as he crouched down to make the same track.  “Ran out of minerals?”  
  
“Nah, a couple hundred years ago we reverse engineered the spells to conjure stuff.  So most of our iron is conjured now.”  Dust came down from the ceiling as Hyden made a simple magic light.  “Plus there’s always the risk that you’ll find a mythos or something camping out in here.”  
  
Hyden admitted, he hadn’t thought of how he’d react if something had been living in the mine.  It wasn’t all that big, though.  A few side passages, an overturned cart, one near-dust skeleton.  Not even an ominously glowing pond or something.  
  
“Heh, to be honest, Domino and I usually just came here to look at Dad’s magazines, or hide stuff we didn’t want the folks finding.”  The ferret giggled at the memories.  “Back when he was still fun to be around.  Now it’s all teeth and grr and serious bin’ness,” he made an exaggeratedly serious face which got a laugh from the ram.  The two started to head back, Demo regaling the teen with tales of the Captain’s youth.  
  
Hyden almost ran into the Captain as he ducked under the boards to the mine.  The one-eyed ferret gave the ram and his brother long looks, before sighing.  “Not exactly safe, Demo, but at least you didn’t take him to the old Amazon camp or something.”  
  
The younger ferret slapped his head in frustration.  “Man, I completely forgot about that!  That would have been an awesome place to go.”  
  
“Why do I bother thinking the best of you?”  Domino turned and gestured with his stump for the two to follow.  “Zoos is going to see to getting a warp-aci from one of the native clans for Evgenija, that’ll let us get furniture and clothes quick, and be your transport to school.”  
  
“I… don’t understand how a group of fish applies to this?”  The ram tried to make it sound less like he was completely lost and more just mildly confused.  
  
“Oh right, the Union doesn’t have an education system.  Well,” the ferret explained as they walked through the jungle, as it turned to night, that a school was an institute of public learning that all children older an age five, but younger than sixteen had to attend.  They were taught basics of language, math, history, and magic over the course of years.  From age sixteen and up, attendance was optional, but the classes expanded to include vocations, and advanced forms of all the basic classes.  
  
Since Hyden was only fourteen, he’d have to attend the school with other teenagers from the area.  Most would assume by his accent that he was a foreigner, because Ti’baltr’s usual citizenship was through bloodline, and that if any of the students tried to make an issue of it, that he was clear to deal with the problem, or go to a teacher.  
  
“Will Evgenija be going to school as well?”  Hyden enquired as the passed the tree he had fallen out of.  
  
“No,” Domino replied.  “She’s an Adventurer, she’ll go to the guildhouse in town every week to get back in form, and take some classes from home, mostly Cubi things.  I’ll have to go with her for those, so I’d really like it if you could make friends at school to stay with during those times….”  
  
“I could watch him,” Demo offered.  “Kid’s rather fun for a nark.”  
  
“Hmm, have a complete stranger watch the kid, or trust my freeloading, burdensome, takes-a-minor-to-a-nude-beach-and-asks-him-to-join brother….  Such a difficult choice.”  Domino rested his hand under his chin as he walked.  Miming consideration.  “I think I’d rather have him watched by thirty swarms of wasps than you, Demo.  No offense.”  
  
Hyden smiled faintly.  Domino was sounding like the ram’s father.  A bit painful to remember, but most of his memories of Sebur were happy.  
  
Demo was sent off to the city, which Hyden could see as a faint cascade of light over the trees, dimming the stars, Evgenija went to bed after being assured by Domino that a waterbed was perfectly normal and healthy, while the ferret and ram made themselves comfortable in the living room.  
  
“Domino?”  Hyden asked while the Captain was adjusting the lamp next to his recliner.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Um.  How do you make friends?”  Domino gave him a long, progressively growing sadder look until the ram felt horrible for asking. But the closest to a friend he’d ever had was Ms. Zed… who had been a succubus and kidnapped him.  
  
“You find people,” he said at last.  “Who enjoy having you around.  Whom you can enjoy being around.  Who you can understand, and be understood by.”  The ferret reclined, turning out the light, and pulling the quilt he’d found in the attic over his head.  “A friend will go out drinking with you, a good friend will take you home after.  A best friend will spend the night in jail with you, and go on about how awesome the night was.”  
  
Hyden considered this while wrapping himself in the fuzzy blanket Domino had given him.  Did that make him and Domino friends?  Or him and Demo?  He didn’t know, and it seemed that the Captain was already alseep.  Maybe Evgenija would know more.  
  
“Stop thinking so loudly and go to sleep!”  Came the screech of the vulture, shaking Domino awake, and startling Hyden.  The two looked at each other, shrugged, then laid down.  
  
Hyden dreamed of chasing monkeys through the trees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is a rough map of the Kebre region, for your enjoyment https://postimg.org/image/4u3chms55/


	6. Surprise!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evgenija does not like surprises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some Zalgo text in this chapter, the only bit in the whole fic, so you're all informed.

**Chapter 6- Surprise!**  
  
    Evgenija dreamed she was in… a sewer?  She wasn’t certain.  The ground was of smooth, seamless stone.  Concrete?  She couldn’t tell.  Bricks formed the walls, the ceiling had a shallow barrel vault to it, and pipes were anchored to the tops of the walls.  The tunnels were poorly lit; she couldn’t see much beyond six feet in front of her.  
  
    Further, she was dressed as she had before… the vampires.  Resized to fit her new dimensions, and her knives were gone.  Marvellous.  Behind her was a door the likes of which seemed intended to keep out some terrible beast; heavy steel and interlocking mechanisms with no knob or sign of a keyhole.  
  
    With nowhere to go but forward, the vulture advanced.  Her first step produced a hideously loud ‘clak’ on the ground that echoed a bit.  If anything was down here with her, it now knew she was there.  Old instincts of stealth, burned into her mind through hours of practice went into work.  In her dream, there was not four years where she had let such talents atrophy.  
  
    Silent as the grave, she walked, passing a glowstone encased in a steel caged and affixed to the wall occasionally.  What a strange dream, she decided.  Just sneaking through a tunnel.   Where the pipes occasionally burst, and steam poured out into the air.  
  
    It wasn’t even the same tunnel style as the prison she’d escaped so why had- Evgenija stopped.  Standing in front of her was a dog in the outfit of green and brown she’d come to accept as the Secret Police.  Golden eyed, fangs twinkling in the dark.   **Him**.  
  
    Wings became tentacles, mouths agape with their false teeth, a haze of black colored her vision as she charged the vampire who had murdered her mother.  He ran, not so fast that Evgeniija lost sight of him, but too fast for her tentacle-mouths to catch him.  Though they swung and snapped at him, biting off bits of fur from his tail, slicing through pieces of cloak.  A venomous hissing noise was filling the air, and Evgenija realized it was coming from her,  proprietary forgotten in the urge to harm the dog.  
  
    A room emerged from the darkness, filled with dusty machinery, and a hole surrounded by waist-high fencing.  The vampire vaulted the fence and dove down the hole, followed closely by the succubus.  No hesitation.  
  
    She fell for an indeterminate span of time, before the sides of the hole gave way to a vast chamber with no visible light.  An updraft of warm air filled her wings, allowing her to hover in the air, as she looked around for the vampire.  
  
    Illuminated by the faint light from the tunnel, the vampire appeared.  But where before he had been shorter than Evgenija, now he appeared enormous.  He filled the whole room, too large to stand, his breath pushed the vulture away from the light.  
  


_The dark is your ally._

  
    She drifted into the blackness, where seemingly the enormous vampire could not see.  Flapping her wings slowly, she glided through the air around him.  
  


_You are Succubus, never are you without weapons._

  
    Putting strength into her flight, Evgenija gained altitude until she felt the cold of the stone ceiling on her back.  The vampire was totally unaware, which she intended to exploit.  Launching herself downward, the vulture let instinct guide her as her wings changed into two massive tentacles, edged in the burning rage she felt for the dog.  
  
    Adventurer Rule number seventeen: _Most things die when their head is cut off; but not all._  She remembered that, when the two tentacles went cleanly through the back of the giant vampire’s neck, detaching the head as she fell through the gap, only to be snatched from the air by his enormous hands.  
  
    The head fell into the dark, splatting unseen against the ground, while the vampire’s body adjusted itself into a seated position.  Evgenija, righteous anger turning to dread, struggled in the dog’s grip as he moved her closer to where his head had been.  
  
    “N̕o͡͏r̨̛m̡͠al͡l̢̢y͘͡,͢ ̵͞I̢ ͞a͝m ͏a͞ga͜įn͢͡s̷̢͜t̵̸ ͡th̵̡e̛͜ ̴͟ų͠se͝ ̡o͘f͡ ̵̛vio̕͝l͟͢en̡c̶͏e҉.̶̴͞,” said a voice from everywhere and nowhere.  It was as if it came… from within her.  “B̛͢u̧̢t̨ ̴I̷ ͞҉c̨͠͞a̡҉n̛̕͜ m̸͡a̷͟ķe̸͠͞ ̵an͘ ̡e̸xc̢ep̷̵t̶̷͢i͞o̵n͟͞ ̨͟g̡į͟͝v̢e̵͝n̴͘ ̴͡y̴͟o͏ų̶̛r ͝͝y͏͟ơ͡͝u̵̧t̢̛͞h̨.”  The words itched, they made her think of wolves hunting in the forest, of desperation, of her heartbeat pounding in her head.  “G̷̛͝r̸e͠͠e͏t̷͞i̧ng̵̡s,҉ ̢c̕h͘i̸̵ļd̵. ̨̕ ̢I̶ ͘͡a͟m̶͟ ̛K̴͏i͘͏s͠h'T̷a̷͝.”  
  
    The vulture looked around, made easier by the dog’s hand releasing her, to rest on his open palm.  “You are… the vampire?”  She inquired, unsure.  
  
    “I̛̛͟ ͏a̢̛m҉̸ ̷̧the ͢v̶̷̧a̷̡m̨p̛͢ir͡ȩ.̧ ͏ I̸͝ ̛am̸͜ ͜t͘h͜e̸̶̕ ̢d̡͝a̵̕͜rk̵͏ ̧t̛͘h̸a͘t̸͘ ̸̶s͟u̶͢rr҉o͘͞u͘n͢ḑ̢s͏̴ ͟u̴̸s̡͝.̡ ̴͟I͏͘ ̴̴̕a̛m̧ ͘t̡͞he͝ ͠s̵̛t̶̵o̸n̛̛e̵̛͟s͏ ͝͞t҉̸h͏a̶t̴ ͜͞l̕͟i͘ne̛͠ t̨͢hi̶̶͘s̵̷͠ ͢͟ro̵҉o̡͜m͞,͡ ̕an҉̨d ̨͝f̵̨orm̷̕ ̧͡t̵͜h҉̢e͘͡ ͜c̵o͟m̶͜p҉l͞҉e̛x h҉i̷g̕͜ḩ͟ ̕a̡͡bov͟͜e̶.̧͢”  The other arm of the decapitated vampire reached out into the darkness.  Moments later, a winged figure began to sashay down the arm, and to the shoulder.  The darkness clung to it, forming a black gown with a train that seemed to go on into infinity.  Evgenija noticed it was a woman as it approached, the figure unmistakable, as tall as she.  Long, straight red hair came from her head, along with solid black wings at the head, back, and… hips?  Furless, she was covered in an opaque black skin, and where her face ought to have been was a mirror.  
  
    “Kish’Ta….”  And as she said the word herself, she remembered.  The Minister of Security; the one who had set the vampires upon her and her mother, Theophillus, was of that clan.  Ideas swirled in her head, that Kish’Ta would take her to him, that somehow her very existence offended the powerful succubus.  Evgenija wanted to run, but as the mirror-faced figure approached, and she found herself staring into her own expression, her limbs would not move away.  
  
    “Well met, daughter of mine.”  The woman’s voice was different so close, sounding in part like Evgenija’s own, but warbled and distant.  But no longer did it speak to primal fears.  “Be certain that I mean you no  harm.”  
  
    “You are not my mother,” the vulture said.  And her reflection in the mirrorface changed to that of Anevka.  “And why should I be certain that you mean no harm when you invade my dreams?”  
  
    “Grandmother with a score or more greats, then.”  The woman pulled forth her dress, and sat down on the dog’s giant thumb which curled unnaturally to form her seat.  The fingers curled similarly behind Evgenija, and the paralysis that had taken her seemed to fade.  Clearly, it was intended that she sit.  
  
    Remembering how to fold her legs to keep a smooth, elegant seating, the vulture sat, keeping her eyes on the faceless… thing sitting opposite her.  “You mean to say that I am of your clan?”  
  
    “Yes.”  The mirror changed to reflect the black symbol on the inner of Evgenija’s thigh, before returning to the reflection of Evgenija.  “I understand you and Theo will have issues to work out.  I will keep him from you until you feel ready.”  
  
    “You have spoken to him about this,” not a question, but a declaration of fact.  
  
    “No.  All that Theo knows, I know.  All that you know, I know.  That you and all my clan be my eyes and ears in the world is the price for the power and protection I grant you.”  The vulture felt pressure rising up from within.  The violation, the invasion, the false promise of protection- “You are not dead, are you?”  
  
    The question stopped the rising tide of rage cold.  The faceless thing spoke again, tone of boredom, “I only became aware of you when you manifested the mark.  And when I saw what was happening, I gave you the strength to escape.  I wish you had the cleverness to do so without violence, but not every child can be perfect.”  
  
    “I am sorry my deficiencies upset you.”  The acid Evgenija put into those words could burn through glass.  “I am sorry that I’m so disappointing, how ever could I change to please you?”  
  
    “Well for one you can up your game on passive aggressiveness,” the figure leaned back slightly onto a portion of  the thumb that developed cancerous growths to accommodate her lounging.  “I saw those responses coming from decades in the past.  You’re young, you’re new, you’re still grieving your mother.  Everyone starts somewhere, and if you live long enough, you’ll develop your own artistic style.”  
  
    Totally taken aback, the vulture opened and closed her mouth a few times before speaking.  “Artistic… style?”  
  
    “Of course darling.  Your own way of inspiring and collecting fear.  From the look of you,” the lounging mirrorface flicked a hand at her, “I’d say you’re going to develop an intimidation look.  Inspiring fear by presence alone.  Oh, that’s so good to watch when it’s done well.”  The mirrorface had the tone of appreciating a fine art.  “You’ll need to cut down on your speaking if you want to do it right, though.  Keeping what you say to a minimum, conveying what you would normally say through looks or simple gestures; it keeps your voice gravelly from disuse and makes what’s said more poignant.”  
  
    “What.”  From offhand references to her emotional state to giving advice on personas to adopt; such a radical change cut off Evgenija’s processing ability for a moment.  
  
    “Yes, like that.  But with a bit more… mm, menace is so heavy-handed, maybe if you made it a gravelly whisper you could make menace work.”  
  
    “You’re mad,” The vulture decided.  Nodding slightly with her own decision on the mirrorface’s mental state.  
  
    “Of course I’m mad.  Everyone is mad.  Sanity is an illusion, a comfort to hide the cruelty of the world from your delicate mental fleshy bits.”  The mirror changed to a piece of esoteric artwork that caused Evgenija’s eyes to hurt if she stared too long.  “The Fae figured that out a long time ago.  Now, let’s see…”  Portraits of men of various species, colors, and social classes passed over the face of the mirror.  “Let’s play a game of ‘Who’s the daddy?!’ eh?” The vulture blinked.  Kish’Ta could figure out her father?  “Of course I can, my little bloody gem; it’s a simple task of taking the common factor,” the image of Anevka’s face appeared on the mirror, “and finding who remembers seeing her in a compromising position.”  
  
    “No!”  The vulture didn’t mean to shout, but she did.  The anger from before seemed to have burned away, replaced by the profound urge not to think of her mother canoodling with anyone.  “That’s an invasion of privacy!”  
  
    “Privacy is also an illusion, dear.  And I happen to have rules in _my_ clan about getting girls pregnant and leaving them alone.”  Kish’Ta twisted as if she had no bones to where her feet and head had switched general positions.  “Speaking of which, if you ever get a girl pregnant and she takes it to term, you own up to your mistake and act like a father.”  The vulture’s face burned at the thought, and she physically restrained herself from shouting this time by holding her beak partially shut.  Manners be damned.  
  
    “I am a _woman_.”  
  
    “Gender, like privacy and sanity, is an illusion.  I’ve seen enough of the world to know that.”  The upside-down mirror locked on a portrait.  “Aha, here we go.” Her form twisted, the trains of darkness snapped away from their infinite connection to the dark and formed around her as she vanished in a whirlwind of color.  And when she was done, someone else was standing there.  
  
    “My name is Tharach,” said the new person in a charming masculine bass.  Evgenija blinked repeatedly as she took in the new shape.  Taller than her, but leaner.  “I was born in the city of Alar before it was destroyed.”  A cat… but with no hair.  Skin a dark gray with patterns of near-black looking almost like burn scars.  “I am two hundred and eighty-eight.”    
  
    Dressed in a dapper suit of Kebrian fashion, covered in a lab coat, with white gloves over his hands.  “I knew your mother for two years before taking her to my bed.”  His eyes were covered by gaudy sunglassses in rhomboid frames.  “I don’t know you exist.”  He had feathered wings, black, but with gold eye markings along the boundary of secondary and primary feathers; and larger ones on the inside of the primary feathers.    
  
    “And I’m already married, with two children both of whom have already manifested their power.”   No, not eye markings, the vulture discovered.  Actual eyes; for they blinked at her.  
  
    And in another, much shorter blur of color and movement, Kish’Ta took back the shape she had before.  “I’m going to be speaking with him about this later; I doubt you want your first meeting to occur anytime soon,” said the mirrorface.  
  
    “Thank you,” Evgenija said, distantly.  She’d imagined her father as various things growing up.  Seeing virtually nothing in her reflection that was not present in her mother had made her assume he was a lammergeier as well.  Certainly not whatever that had been.  
  
    “You’re welcome, now there’s something else-”  The mirrorface cut off her sentence and looked up to the hole in the ceiling from whence their light was coming.  “I think we’re going to have to finish this off at a later date.”  
  
    “Why?”  Evgenija stood up, looking up at the holes as well.  She could hear something, and strained to get a grip on the sound.  Rushing water?  
  
    “Because you’re going to wake up when that hits you.”  
  
    “When what hits-” As if the dream knew when she would invoke that cliche, a torrent of liquid, as if pressurized, erupting out of the hole faster than gravity would propel it.  The blast struck Evgenija hard, taking off the giant decapitated dog’s hand as it pushed her down with the torrent.  
  
    It was emotion she realized, as she fell.  Despair, chiefly, but also grief, shame, self-loathing, guilt, and pain.  So much pain.  
  
    She woke with a jerk, launching herself into a sitting position.  The emotions continued to pour through her filter as if it were not there; perhaps it had lapsed in her sleep?  She threw the covers from her and tried to stand.  Grief and shame burned in her mind so intensely that it caused her to stumble and fall to the floor.  
  
    ‘Where is it coming from?’  She thought, pushing herself to her feet and stumbled for the door, not caring that she was dressed in only a silk slip found in Domino’s closet.  Stumbling through the halls to the living room where the men were sleeping.  
  
    The boy, Hyden, seemed peacefully asleep, and the calm he radiated gave her strength to press on to the source.  Domino.  The ferret was curled into a ball in the seat of his reclying chair, quilt cast aside.  He was asleep, but his hand and stump were curled over his head, like he was protecting it from phantom blows.  
  
    A spike of pain threw the vulture to her knees.  Cubi were creatures of emotion, she remembered.  Why could she not simply absorb these emotions, then?  Why was the ferret’s emotions affecting her so strongly.  
  
    She crawled to the chair, reaching up to try shaking the ferret awake but-  
  


_A crowd of accusing faces-_

  
    The vulture’s vision was obscured by a hazy image, of people she’d never known, and likely would never know from the grief spike that followed her seeing it.  “Wake up,” she rasped, her throat drying from the ashiness of the grief.  “Please wake up.”  She tried shaking him a little, but to no avail.  
  


_A bat succubus in a gray dress sinking down in the ocean, a spear lodged through her chest-_

  
    Such pain followed that image that she retracted her hand, as if burned.  “I said, wake _up!_ ”  Consuming the pain rather than let it harm her, by force and necessity, gave her the strength to seize the sleeping ferret again and shake him forcefully.  
  
    He woke, startled, and rolled away from Evgenija, off of the leg of the chair, and pointing his good hand at her while red magical energy sparked from his fingers.  All done before she could recover from the sudden stop of emotions.  
  
    “Evgenija?”  The ferret said, relaxing and yawning.  “What’s up?”  
  
    “You were having a nightmare,” she hissed slowly standing.  “Your emotions burned through my filter.”  He looked properly contrite for something he couldn’t help.  “No harm done, it’s done.  Let’s go back to bed.”  
  
    “Um,” Domino said leaning back slightly and looking out a window.  “Hate to break it to ya, but the sun is rising, ma chère.”  Sure enough the sky outside was turning to purple, an indicator of dawn oncoming.  “You go get dressed before the boy sees you in Swoon’s nightie, I’ll make breakfast okay?”  He looked at his stump, then drooped.  “Or I could just get everything ready for you to make breakfast, that works too.”  
  
    “Wait,” Evgenija said, processing what had been said.  “This belongs to that hairdresser woman?”  She plucked at the silk slip, “how did you get it?  Augh!  No!  Don’t answer!”  The vulture woman waved her hands emphatically as the ferret got a devilish look on his face, and _graphic_ images filled her mind.  
  
    “You see, ma chère, when a man and a woman find each other mutually attractive they-”  
  
    “I refuse to have this conversation with you!  Augh, I’m never going to feel clean again.  Where’s the shower?!”  She shouted as she rushed away to her bedroom to change, ignoring the evil cackles of the one-eyed ferret who moments ago had caused her so much suffering.  
  
    An hour, and many baths later, she was fully dressed and using her wings as an improvised apron while making breakfast for the three housemates.  Most of what had occupied Domino’s cupboards and refrigerator had been dried foods.  Dried fruits, evaporated milk, oatmeal, peanut butter; things that could go without observation for perhaps months and remain good.  Combining some oatmeal, evaporated milk, hydrated fruits, and honey for sweetener into a porridge seemed the only thing she could make at the time.  
  
    No one complained, at least.  “Alright,” the one-eyed ferret started after the meal was concluded.  “Until we hear word about that warp aci, or Zoos brings out a working phone because no one thought to grab mine,” he was only slightly bitter about that Evgenija noticed, “we’re stuck out here.  So, let’s go through the house, spruce everything up.  Get her as slick and shiny as we can.”  
  
    “How do we do that?”  The ram boy asked, chewing on his spoon.  
  
    “With chores, that’s how.”  Evgenija nodded, but the ram didn’t seem to comprehend.  “What?”  
  
    “What are chores?”  Both vulture and ferret gave the teen a dumbfounded work.  “Is it a type of exercise?”  
  
    “Chores.  You know, do the dishes, scrub the floors, clean the windows, do the laundry.”  The ferret shrugged.  “Chores.”  
  
    “Ohhh,” said Hyden, comprehension dawning on him.  “I forgot we don’t have servants to do all that.”  The boy was used to having servants?  Was he a noble?  “What’s my job?”  He sounded far too excited for manual labor.  It grated against Evgenija’s childhood memories of dreading such work.  
  
    “Something that needs to be done early in the morning, and that only you have the hands to do.”  Domino nodded solemnly.  “Mow the lawn.”  The Demon tilted his head to the side, confused.  “Come on, I’ll show you.”  And the two left the house for the backyard, leaving Evgenija to do the dishes.  Not that she wouldn’t be saddled with the dishes anyway; Domino certainly couldn’t do it.  
  
    The ferret, upon returning to the house, filled a bucket with hot water from the sink using the hose, and occupied his time by scrubbing the floors until they shone.  “So,” the vulture said, putting a bowl on the rack to dry.  “You were a captain?”  
  
    “Yeah,” Domino replied, not looking up from his work.  “What of it?”  
  
    “I remembered that you and the dog, Zoos I think his name was, went off to talk about funerals for a while.  I wanted to offer condolences.”  The ferret kept on scrubbing.  
  
    “Eh, it’s not like you knew ‘em.”  
  
    “I know them as well as you did, Domino.  Cubi are telepathic, remember?  And as last night showed, your nightmares affect more than just you.”  The vulture filled the lull in the conversation with putting more oomph into scrubbing a glass.  “If you want time alone… to grieve.  I can-”  
  
    “Do nothing,” the ferret cut her off curtly. “Because I’m your chaperone, and I need to stay within a radius of you that overlaps with the radius a Cubi can pick up emotions.  If my emotions are bothering you, I’ll see about getting you someone to teach you a stronger filter.”  
  
    She sensed resentment from the ferret, and decided not to comment.  Domino had explained that she needed to stay within a certain radius of the ferret at all times, or her visa would activate a recall spell tied to her aura which would bring her to the local police station.  The Ti’baltic government had a more refined passive aura sampling technique than Veldun’s adventuring guild; merely signing the visa and holding still for a moment had attuned the spell.  
  
    It effectively made her a domestic adventurer until eighteen months had passed, and her visa was moved to long-term residency.  
  
    Moments later, the Demon boy entered the kitchen, covered in grass clippings and smelling of freshly mowed lawn.  “Did you know grass has a smell when it’s cut?  It’s awesome!”  
  
    “Yeah, Hyden.  I figured you’d like it, now go take a shower before you get grass all over my nice clean floor.”  The ferret moved to brush what clippings had already fallen outside with magic, following the ram to blow out more and more as more clippings fell down.  
  
    “Ch-yah, that kid seems excitable.”  
  
    “Yes, I imagine he came from a rather repressive background,” Evgenija said in reply to the otherworldly voice that she took about five seconds to recognize as something that shouldn’t have been there.  Spinning, she drew a kitchen knife from the suds and held it at the throat of the floating black almost-bird thing that she found at her side.  
  
    “Jeeze!”  It shouted, trying to flap away but was soon grabbed by the vulture.  “You’re not the type to take surprises well, are you?”  
  
    “No, I’m not.  I’m also not the type to brandy words with home invaders.”  The vulture flicked some bubbles off the knife and adjusted her grip to more easily stab with the knife.  “Now tell me who you are, and why you’re here.”  
  
    “Ch-yah, I’m a warp-aci.  Name’s Surprise, I’m here to do whatever you tell me.”  Evgenija blinked, and examined the creature.  Given the… warp-aci was black, it was hard to tell, but she could faintly see a deeper black mark on its head.  Kish’Ta’s mark.  “Um, your great grandma says hi?”  
  
    The vulture sighed.  “This country is working hard to drive me to drink.”  
  
    “Oh, you want a drink?  I can take you to a bar if you’d like- _okay, okay just put the knife down, jeeze!_ ”


	7. Too school for cool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hyden goes to highschool and has an awesome day!

**Chapter 7- Too school for cool**  
  
    Evgenija’s new pet glowrat made getting into town easy, so the afternoon was spent shopping.  Hyden loved shopping, and having money to buy things even if Domino was worried about things being too expensive.  It posed an interesting challenge; getting the most for the least.  
  
    Ti’baltr had this thing called ‘coupons’ that the Demon ram was fascinated by.  Offering certain items at reduced prices by presenting the cut out slip of paper; he couldn’t wait until he went to ‘school’ to learn about how they managed that.  For the grocery store; Evgenija would give him a list of items needed, and the ram would go out to get the cheapest type.  
  
    Domino seemed impressed with how little the total came out to at checkout anyway, which made Hyden happy inside.  If he could do this after one afternoon with Ms. Zed, what could he do with a proper apprenticeship?  Start a business in less than a year perhaps?  
  
    “You are getting overconfident,” Evgenija told him as they were bagging the groceries for Surprise to help them take home.  Surprise was apparently a glowrat present from Evgenija’s great grandmother who had innate teleporting powers.  “It is okay to revel in minor achievements, but there is a massive difference between budgeting a grocery run, and owning a business.”  
  
    Oh right, Evgenija could hear his thoughts.  That was weird.  But she hadn’t hit him yet, which was nice of her.  “Aww, mon cher, let the boy dream,” Domino chided playfully, pulling Surprise away from the grapes.  “It's good to have goals.”  
  
    “Realistic goals, yes.”  Hyden stretched out his arms as the succubus loaded them with bags.  They weren’t that heavy, and she seemed to expect him to take the biggest things.  “You have good work ethic for a boy your age, Hyden.  But you’re too energetic.”  
  
    “But I’m a Demon,” Hyden said, tilting his head to the side.  “We’re all like this.”  
  
    “Not all, just most.”  The ram stopped to think.  Oresse had been positively hyper at times; as had grandfather.  But Auriga hardly ever showed emotions beyond being angry; did Kebre have many Demons like her?  
  
    After unloading the grocery shopping came furniture shopping.  Which took unexpected turns, because they didn’t go to a store to start off.  They went to a thing called a ‘yard sale.’  In the suburban areas of the city of Ti’baltr, people organized small events on their personal property where they sold off unwanted possessions and furniture.  Domino said it was a great way to keep items in use, rather than throw them away, which calmed Evgenija when she objected to buying used goods.  
  
    “Man, there’s a lot more nuance to merchanting than I thought,” Hyden said as he and Evgenija moved a chest of drawers intended for Hyden’s room off to the side where Surprise was sitting with other such furniture.  
  
    “See, exactly my point earlier.  Unf,” replied the vulture woman, setting the chest of drawers down on the grass.  “I will watch these things, you go check with Domino, see if he has anything else to buy here, or if we’re leaving.”  The ram nodded and trotted off.  
  
    The ferret was examining clothes on hangers, with a small pile already over his bad arm.  Seemingly aware of Hyden’s approach, the Captain spoke up; “This one has a lot of clothes in your size, if we find more sales like this, all we’ll need to get you from the store will be socks and underwear.”  
  
    Face warming a bit, the ram joined in examining the clothes.  A lot of silk, cotton, and linen; some with patterns or logos on the front, but most were solid colors.  They didn’t seem to be cut for a person with wings, though.  “Um, Domino.  I’m not sure this'll work, my wings….”  The ferret leaned back to look at the limbs then returned to looking at the clothesrack.  
  
    “I have a brilliant plan, Hyden, don’t worry.”  
  
    “It doesn’t involve sawing my wings off, does it?”  
  
    “I have a slightly less brilliant plan, Hyden, don’t worry.”  The ram worried so intensely for a few moments before realizing the joke for what it was.  “You won’t be setting any fashion trends with this, but you’re a Demon; they expect that sort of thing from the Angels.”  
  
    “Do you know if there will be any Angels in my class?”  There hadn’t been an Angel in the Ister Union since Raldbathar the Greater over twenty-two hundred years ago, and Hyden would love to meet someone of the race equal and opposite to his own.  
  
    “No, unfortunately.”  The ram tried to hide bitter disappointment.  “After Nanbi died they either scattered or went into seclusion.  A couple like Swoon stayed in the public light, or eventually returned to it.  But they have their own fortress deep in the jungle; we only bother them when wartime comes around.”  
  
    “Nanbi was the Angel that Dominus married, yes?”  The ram saw a nice shirt that had a floral pattern he liked, but the tag inside said it was a girl’s shirt so he put it back.  Domino promptly took it off the hook again and over his arm with the rest of the clothes to buy.  
  
    “Well yes and no.  Angels don’t marry, they take mates which last as long or as short as both parties want it.”  Domino roughly pulled on the ram’s foot to compare size to a strange, flexible-soled shoe with thin, broad laces and tops slightly above the ankle.  “I imagine they like it that way.”  
  
    “What, why?”  
  
    “Lets them end a romantic encounter when the situation calls for a quick escape.”  Finding the shoe sized within an acceptable margin, Domino tied the laces together and threw the shoes over his arm.  “Such as when the Angel’s angry father busts down the door.  Hoo, that wasn’t fun.”  
  
    Hyden chuckled, but also went a bit red in the face.  It wasn’t as bad as his mom making lewd allusions, kind of funny even.  Maybe that’s how it would have been if Sebur was still alive; or if that was just a reaction friends had.  “Should we look for things for Evgenija, as well?”  
  
    “She’s too tall, and she’d never accept secondhand clothes after this morning.”  Hyden didn’t like the evil look the ferret had on his face, but had seen that expression on his mother’s after she’d gotten to mischief enough to avoid asking.  “No, I’ll take her to a tailor.  Now you,” he elbowed Hyden just below the ribs, “go through the odds and ends and find something you’d like for you, mmm?”  
  
    “But we have everything we need-”  
  
    “Not need, mon grand, want.  It’ll be a couple of days before you go off to school, and you’ll burn through chores quick with how you do ‘em.  Find a book, a puzzle, something.”  He gestured flippantly, and took the items to the matronly woman hosting the sale, who seemed pleased with the amount of things he’d bought.  
  
    Hyden went to the tables covered in nicknacks, a few  toys he was too old for, and examined them.  A fountain pen caught his eye.  No ink, but with some and a book, he could start a journal.  The pen seemed to be made of sandalwood, for it had the nutty smell attributed to the tree, which meant it was likely expensive.  
  
    “I’ll get something simpler later,” he told himself, crushing the swell of longing.  He found a pocketwatch of simple steel with a cracked face that wouldn’t wind, a book called ‘Dancing with Dragons’ that had a rather romantic cover of a male dragon and a female Being and appeared alarmingly worn, and another book titled: ‘Household magic: Higitus Figitus!’ that actually looked interesting.  
  
    Ms. Zed had used a lot of household magic in her shop, and with the Captain unable to help very much with chores due to his missing hand, Hyden hoped it started regenerating soon, the ram and Evgenija were going to need every bit of help they could find.  Grabbing the book, Hyden went to meet up with Domino for paying.  
  
    Several more yard sales later; and Hyden was seated at the new desk in his room while Domino helped him with something called a ‘placement test’.  “And this will let them know what class to put me in?”  He asked the ferret.  
  
    “Yep.”  
  
    “Hmm, I had not anticipated a caste system….”  The ram started marking the answers he assumed were correct for the math portion.  That part was easy; follow the pattern his tutors had taught to get the same result.  Math had been one of his better subjects.  “You’re part of the Ti’balt family, right?  Does that make you noble caste?”  
  
    “Mais,” the ferret waved him off with a foreign word, “there are social classes here, but not a caste system.  Groups of students taught by one teacher are called classes, like how a group of birds is a flock, or a group of lawyers is a mardiquain swarm.”  
  
    Hyden tilted his head, confused.  Why would one master teach multiple apprentices?  That seemed more work on the part of the master than was necessary.  But rather than focus on that, he focused on the next segment of the placement test: History.  Fortunately, it was _world_ history, and not Ti’baltr’s regional history.  
  
    “Name five city-states… Does Ti’baltr count as a city-state?”  
  
    “Nah, we’re a confederacy.”  Hyden nodded, and wrote down what he could remember; Zinvth, Vecenstein, Mag’nithor… and left the other two spaces blank while going to the next question.  “Historic cities also count, you know.”  The ram gave the ferret an odd look, even more confused.  “What?”  
  
    “Sorry, just not used to people helping me during tests.”  
  
    “It’s an unspoken tradition that the parents help the kids during these tests,” the ferret nodded solemnly with his hand over his heart; like it was some sacred duty.   “As your parran, your foster father, I must do this as well.”  
  
    “You’re using a lot of foreign words….”  
  
    “Yeah, that’s the Ti’baltic in me coming back from being at sea so long.”  Domino smiled faintly.  “People on the ship tend to use the more widely understood words; to deal with customers you understand.  Parran means godfather, but also means foster father as a slang term.  Na-nan is the female equivalent.”  He tapped the paper a few times rapidly, “now get back there and add two dead cities.”  
  
    The rest of the test went like that, Hyden filling in some information, while Domino would put a spin on the question or the answer that would let the ram fill up any empty space.  The ferret insisted on short breaks every ten minutes or so, and would often retrieve snacks or let Hyden read from his new books until the next portion of the test needed doing.  
  
    The whole thing took about two hours to complete, and Hyden was worried about the evaluation the test would net; going over answers again and suddenly seeing ways he could say things so much better- but Domino took the test away before he could enact any of them.  
  
    “Mon grand, it’s fine.”  The ferret handed the folder the test was contained in to Surprise, who popped away to deliver it.  “Besides which, ma chère Evgenija is likely finishing with supper soon.  Would be rude to make her work for naught, no?”  The Demon’s stomach gurgled with hunger; porridge and a lunch of beef patty sandwiches hadn’t held up well.  
  
    A dinner of boiled potatoes, baked chicken breast, and a strange green vegetable Hyden had never seen before called a ‘green bean’ followed.  Not exactly filling, but tasty.  Evgenija said it was ‘expected of a woman to know the ways of the kitchen’, and tutted disdainfully when he told her neither his mother or female cousins knew how to cook.  
  
    “Poor form on their parents then,” she said.  Frowning, the ram was going to say something but Domino poked him with the knife tied to his stump that he’d had to use to eat.  Hyden took the hint to let the subject drop.  
  
    The next couple of days were filled with activity.  Hyden was pushed onto the couch and given a strange rectangular device and told to learn the ways of ‘television’ while Domino and Evgenija went to the tailor.  It took him a bit of reading the manual but he figured it out.  
  
    And when he did; wow.  News programs.  Sports.  Documentaries!  There was so much to watch and learn, that Hyden had a hard time choosing at first.  
  
    “-We have for you now, an update on the difficulties facing the Ister Union.”  That settled the topic of what to watch for Hyden as he set the remote down, and drunk some of the fizzy acid drink ‘soda’ from the strangely shaped glass bottle.  The screen, projecting an image of a vivacious canine Demon woman in a dress suit seated at a desk with the city of Ti’baltr as the backdrop, had smaller images detailing a map of the Union to her right.  
  
    “As the maps show, the duchy of Borovec is in full rebellion at the moment,” said the canine Demon, with an alarming amount of cheer.  “The rebellion started in the city of Vecenstein, where tensions with the local Demon clans reached a breaking point.  Refugees from the duchy fleeing the conflict are going inland or across the mountains to Kebre.”  The image changed to one showing winged police officers, one of which Hyden recognized as a cousin mowing down Beings in civilian attire with magic.    
  
    “The death toll is currently around five thousand as riot-suppression groups were authorized to use lethal force to bring Borovec back under control.  The Kebrian navy has set up a blockade of the coastal side of Borovec on request from the Union government.  Uzir Zezzuva, Minister of War for the Kebrian government released this statement.”  
  
    The screen changed from the Demon’s desk and image to a tall, well-built elk incubus of black, red, and white colors dressed in a blue officer’s uniform standing behind a podium in front of many Beings with cameras.    
  
    “The Ister Union is one of our staunch allies,” the elk said in a grinding growl.  “I respect them greatly for going so far to restore the peace without external interference.”  He gestured flippantly and smiled something most unpleasant, “our ships are only in the area to help capture rebels attempting to flee, and return them to the government.  At this time, it is not expected for serious deployment of ground forces to assist the government of the Ister Union in putting down the rebellion.”  
  
    “Our best of luck to the civilians in Borovec caught between the two factions,” said the canine Demon as she returned to the screen.  “Next is Taisho with the latest on the blitzball tournament-”  Hyden turned the television off.  It was good to see his cousin alive; even if it hadn’t been a cousin he’d known particularly well.  It gave him hope that Auriga and Oresse were alright.  
  
    Hyden hadn’t been particularly religious.  None of the Bloodstone Demons were; to many a Being they were themselves gods of death and destruction, why would they venerate higher powers?  But Hyden’s father, Sebur, had been a shaman.  The spirits that existed outside the physical world and looked in; spirits of the primal forces, spirits of emotions, spirits of concepts.  He didn’t know their names, Sebur had died before sharing that powerful part of his religion, but the young ram knew they were there.  
  
    “If you can hear me, spirits… heroism, goodness, whatever you are,” the young demon started, staring up to the wooden roof plaintively.  “Help them, please?”  The roof didn’t answer.  Hyden sighed.  “Invoking spirits without the training, real smart,” and left the living room to go take a nap.  
  
    He would not learn until years later that his words had been heard.  And that invoking the spirit of ‘heroism’ on the Bloodstone Demons, butchers of the northern realms, was a bad idea.  
  
    The next day came, and with it: School.  The two older housemates were busy getting ready for the trip to the hospital for Domino’s talk with the regenerator, and Evgenija’s training session at the Adventurer’s Guild.  After they woke the young ram up early to get ready, he was on his own for the most part.  
  
    Domino’s ‘brilliant plan’ for fixing the shirts to account for the Demon’s wings was to work with Evgenija to cut out a segment of the back, requiring him to put his wings in first, but allowing a comfortable fit.  
  
    “You’re going into the eighth grade,” Domino told him as the ferret bagged a lunch for the ram.  “Last year of primary education, so even if you’re new the younger kids will give you some respect.  The school provides a lunch, but you can use these snacks and sandwiches to barter for things like hall passes, school supplies if you want, or direct snack exchange.  Or just eat them along with that lunch, that works too.”  
  
    “Do not promote gluttony, Domino,” chided Evgenija who was sharpening the knives Domino had bought her.  Elegant leaf-bladed things; nothing like the dinky knives some of Hyden’s cousins would carry on their belts growing up.  
  
    “He’s a growing boy, ma chère.  Needs all the fuel he can get.”  The vulture woman huffed, but didn’t respond.  Hyden smiled, the two were already becoming friends despite the awfulness of their meeting.  Now all the ram had to do was become Evgenija’s friend, and the triad would be complete.  “You remember when the school lets out?”  
  
    “Three-thirty in the afternoon,” Hyden supplied.  “And I wait by the main doors for Surprise to show up to pick me up, and when I get home finish doing my chores and do any homework before watching the tv.”  
  
    “And to think I was worried about him going off and setting something on fire out of boredom,” the ferret laughed to the vulture woman, who raised her beak loftily.  
  
    “He is well-behaved, if ignorant of proper manners,” she commented.  Almost a compliment.  “Surprise, take him to school.”  Hyden grabbed the sack of assorted foods the ferret pushed at him, and waited for the glowrat to come to its mistress’ call.  
  
    “Rassa frassin’ birdwoman and her rassa frassing work expectations,” the bird-like glowrat said as it circled Hyden and sent him off through the dimensions.  
  
    When the darkness of teleportation lifted, he was standing in front of a stone building, on a street filled with people, in a suburb he had never seen before.  Some people were looking at him odd for coming in via teleportation, but went back to their business of crowding the doors to the building, rather than going in.  “See you in a few hours, Surprise,” the ram said in parting as the glowrat teleported away.  
  
    He examined the crowd while slowly approaching.  Beings and Demons occupied the vast majority, while a few Mythos clustered in their own groups.  He didn’t see any Angels, or Beings with feathered wings even.  The ages for the people were young; none looked older than Hyden, and some were as young as six years old, and accompanied by their parents.  
    The hum of noise and chatter filled his ears, and he had to flip them back.  He’d never seen so many people at once, and never heard such noise.  He’d thought the wharf of Vecenstein was noisy at times; but this din was to that subarctic harbor as a mountain was to a hill.  
  
    A shrill bell filled the air, and the people started to go inside.  The young children left their parents to run in, excited, and Hyden followed unsure of what else to do.  A tug on the leg of his three-quarters pants alerted him to a small figure trying to get his attention as he crossed the threshold.  “Mr. Bloodstone,” said the feather winged white and sky blue mouse dressed in an impressive suit, “I’m Principal Hopecho, I’ll be showing you to your homeroom.  Please come with me.”  
  
    “Yes, sir,” the ram replied meekly, following behind the obvious Angel.  The lobby and administrative offices of the school were indoors, Hyden observed as they walked, but the classrooms were all open to the outside, connected by stairs and covered walkways.  “A few rules while we walk, my boy.”  The Angel had a weak version of the twangy accent Hyden had come to accept as the default for Ti’baltr.  
  
    “Um, one sec, I need to get my notebook.”  Hyden fumbled with the satchel that contained his school supplies, before getting a simple lead pencil and a flip notebook out.  “I’m ready, sir.”  
  
    “Good.  Rule one, no magic in the hallways.  If someone is hurt, get a teacher, don’t attempt to heal them on your own.”  Hyden nodded, and wrote the rules down.  Most had to do with basic safety, some cultural understanding, and the dress code; the last of which he found almost too light.  “Got it memorized?”  
  
    “Yes, sir.”  
  
    “Good, we’re here.”   The mouse angel gave the ram a warm smile and gestured to a door with a bronze plaque reading ‘8-D’ on it.  “Let me go in and make sure the teacher is ready for you.”  Principal Hopecho vanished into the room, and while he did Hyden got a glimpse of the other students.  Three Beings, three Demons, two mythos, fairly even on the male/female split.  No sheep like Hyden, though.  
  
    A moment later, the Angel came back out and held the door open for him.  Hyden stepped in to the door to enter, but froze at the the entrance, his fleece puffing out in alarm.  
  
    What stood next to a desk was a nine foot tall bird-thing; muddy brown bony plates comprising the body with metallic black feathers for bird-like wings.  No visible hands, bu a pair of short tentacles at the bending joint of the wings that looked like vertebrae, with a long tail of similar design coming out the back.  A beaked head resembling a dodos but with a third eye in the forehead, all three eyes of different colors and blinking out of synch with each other.  Naked except for a long scarf of soft pink ending in red feathers wrapped around a neck that had to remain hunched or the head would scrape the ceiling.  
  
    It approached him, pulling its wings closer around its body.   **”Hello, sweetie,”** it said in a sound like sheet metal being cut while not moving its beak at all.   **”Don’t be scared, I’m Miss Estiiv, your homeroom teacher.”**  The mouse gave Hyden a push toward the creature, which seemed to snap the Demon out of his ‘it can’t see me if I don’t move’ mental state enough to approach the obvious Mythos with caution.  
  
    The bird-type Mythos folded one wing over Hyden, effectively trapping him from running as the Principal closed the door.  Hyden stiffly turned to face the class, looking probably like a deer in the torchlight.    
      
    A female dog Demon in the front row, her fur of ash gray and black waved to him while Miss Estiiv introduced him.   **”Class, this is Hyden Bloodstone, he just came here from the Ister Union.  Say hello, class.”**  
  
    “Hello,  class,” came the sarcastic reply of a gray rat Being in the second row who stuck his tongue out at the Mythos as she gave him a look.  Most of the other seven students gave a greeting of some kind.  
  
     **”Since Hyden is so new to Ti’baltr, I’m wondering if one of you could buddy up with him while he gets his bearings.”**  The Mythos looked around at the class, expectantly.   **”Anyone?  Someone?  I can verify he doesn’t have any diseases.”**  
  
    A mythos from the front row nearest the door rose a stubby hand.  It looked like a hairy snake of blue and white with a sort of canine head; arms and legs short and scaley and given the sheer length of its body, far apart.  The tail ended in a fan of white fur, it’s nose covered in scales with two fleshy barbels resembling a moustache, except that one of them was wrapped around a pencil.  
  
     **”Zenuma, you’re volunteering?”**  
  
    “Yes,” the Mythos said in an oily voice.  “As class representative, I feel it is my responsibility.”  A bovine Being from the back also raised her hand.  
  
     **”Renet, what is it?”**  
  
    “Zen has to go off for school meetings sometimes,” the cow said.  “I can watch him while Zen’s away.”  
  
     **”I’m so happy to see people volunteering to help our new classmate.”**  Hyden’s fur was not anywhere close to going down and the ear closest to the… disturbing Mythos had to be folded back for the sound of her voice at such proximity was painful.   **”Now, Hyden, there’s an open desk behind Zenuma.  Ask your neighbor to share some notes while I start the first lesson.”**  
  
    The almost ran from the proximity of the nine-foot-tall monster to the desk.  His neighbor, another dog Demon, but this one a male and considerably beefier; red with a near-black red forming almost tribal patterns, with an unbuttoned shirt and cargo shorts.  He gave the ram an evaluating look before handing over his notebook for Hyden to quickly transcribe while Miss Estiiv started the lesson on ‘identifying injuries’.  
  
    Hyden grew used to the teacher’s… unusual voice as the lesson progressed from telling the age of simple bruises to the difference between a pulled muscle and a sprain.  What was odd was that at the bell, the teacher packed up a small bag of her notebooks and folders and left, and moments later, another teacher came in to start the class’ lesson on Language.  
  
    It would repeat every hour, from the times he checked on the clock.  After Language came Maths, then Magic.  After the bell rang for the Magic lesson, however, it was the students who stood up, Hyden following after them as they marched out of the classroom.  
  
    “This is the lunch period,” said the oily voice of the furry-snake dog-faced Mythos that had volunteered to be his guide; Zenuma the ram remembered.  “It is a two-hour period that allows students to eat and play out on the playground or in the fields.”  Hyden looked where the Mythos pointed with his barbels to the space behind the school where a field of short grass and strange equipment was arranged in a giant sandbox.  It was then that Hyden also noticed that Zenuma wasn’t standing, but floating in the air.  
  
    “Um, thanks.  I’m Hyden, nice to meet you,” the Demon offered, extending a hand to shake, which Zenuma wrapped a barbel around and shook with surprising strength.  
  
    “Zenuma, class rep.  Follow me, the cafeteria is this way.”  The floating snake Mythos led the ram through the halls, passed the crowds of surging children and to a massive, cool room of tables and benches with an enclosed area off to the side where people were lining up.  “That’s the lunch line, first come first serve.  You take a tray,” the Mythos used his scaley hands to take a molded plastic tray from a stack.  “And you take things as you want from the items they have for you.  You allergic to anything?”  
  
    “No, no.”  Hyden shook his head while taking a tray.  
  
    “Good, the lunchladies hate having to remake things because some kid went into shock.”  The lunch that followed, while not as tasty as Evgenija’s cooking was certainly filling, enough that he started trading the snacks Domino had made him for drinks to wash the food down with.  
  
    After eating, people started to leave for the outside, where the younger kids were playing on the equipment, most of them, Hyden noticed. His neighbor from homeroom was doing pullups on some sort of equipment where kids would swing from horizontal bar to horizontal bar along a path.  The older kids were out and about on the field.  
  
    The ram joined the group in the field, though some of the equipment looked fun.  The older kids were playing a variety of sports or chasing games, or just sitting in the grass talking.  He stood out among them, rubbing his arms awkwardly without an idea of where to go.  
  
    “Hey, Hyden right,” said the bovine Being from the ram’s homeroom, Renet, trotting up to him with a red rubber ball under her arm.  She was mostly brown, with patches of black, black hair, and dressed in a vest and breeches with no shoes.  “Want to play kickball?  We’re starting a game.”  
  
    “What’s kickball?”  The ram said without thinking, recoiling at the cow’s scandalized expression and backing away.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend-”  
  
    “How can you not know about kickball?!”  The cow reached out and grabbed Hyden’s arm, dragging the smaller male behind her as she trotted to a group of other children in their age group.  “Right, we’re going to play and you watch, and when the next game starts, you give it a try, okay?”  
  
    “Sure?”  The ram didn’t have much to do, and was slightly glad he was being included in something.  The name was an accurate descriptor of the game.  Two teams, one team kicking, the other receiving; the receivers would roll the ball to the kicker at the origin point, and after kicking would attempt to run a circuit of three fixed points before someone could retrieve the ball and cut them off, or tag them with it directly.  If the ball went too far to the side, it was foul, if someone caught the ball before it hit the ground, the kicker was out their turn.  
  
    Oresse had told Hyden that sports arose as training to warfare, and Hyden could clearly see where the warfare applications of this ‘kickball’ came.  Scatter enemy forces by foiling their attack, and completing timed objectives before they could regroup with the ever present chance that the enemy wouldn’t be scrambled at all.  
  
    Hyden’s first attempt to kick however was caught by Renet, who gave him a smile as he walked dejectedly to the back of the line.  
  
    All too soon, the lunch break came to an end, and the classes resumed.  Having lost track of Zenuma, the ram followed Renet back to the homeroom.  When the Mythos did find him again, the strange Creature gave Hyden a quick lecture about wandering off.  It was strange to be talked down to by someone his own age; but Hyden fell into the usual routine of appeasement and promising not to do it again.  
  
    The two classes that followed lunch were Music and History.  Of the two, Hyden preferred Music, as it was taught by a peppy bluejay Phoenix, who distributed instruments to the students.  Hyden found he quite liked the trumpet, even though he didn’t have enough fingers to play it quite right.  The teacher, seeing this said she would bring a trombone by for the next lesson so see if he liked it as much.  After the final class, there was a period before the end of school where everyone worked on some of the, for the horror stories Domino had shared, light homework given to them.  
  
    And after that, everyone left out the front entrance they had come in.  Hyden bade goodbye to the Mythos and Being who seemed to like him and waited outside the front of the schoool for Surprise to teleport in and pick him up.  
  
    Half an hour passed, and Hyden sat down to finish what little homework had not been done in the homework period, while he waited.  
  
    An hour passed, and the ram’s stomach began to gurgle for food, but still Surprise didn’t show.  
  
    And then two hours had passed, and the sun was beginning to set.  The ram paced in front of the school, wanting to just leave, but not knowing which direction to even go in.  Or if he was on the Big Island at all.  Had they forgotten him?  Had something happened?  Did Domino have an accident on the operating table and was bleeding out while doctors scrambled around him?  
  
    Had some monster attacked a remote outpost and only Evgenija had the skills to help them slay it?  These and more scenarios played out as the streetlights turned on while the sky grew dark.  
  
    “Ahem,” said a voice, causing the ram to jump slightly.  Standing on the sidewalk was a bulldog Being in a long coat with a small shield of gold metal on the breast, a cap with a five point star on the front, and a very obviously enchanted truncheon in his gloved hands.  “Lad, what’re you doing out here at this hour?”  
  
    “S-supposed to pick me up hours ago,” the ram babbled, alone in a foreign country and just barely fighting the urge to panic.  
  
    “That explains where your chaperone is, let me see your visa.”  The bulldog approached, letting the truncheon hang from its chord by his wrist while he held out his opposite hand to the ram.  
  
    “Don’t have-”  Hyden flinched from the pointed glare the Being gave him, trying to sink his neck into his shirt.  
  
    “You’re not supposed to go without your visa, lad.  For exactly situations like this, didn’t your chaperone explain this?”  Hyden shook his head no, folding his wings close to him.  For being so tropical, it was rather cold at night.  The dog sighed, long-suffering and muttered something about foreigners before addressing Hyden again.  “Where do you live, lad?”  
  
    “Don’t know-”  
  
    “How do you not know where you live?”  
  
    “Teleported- glowrat-”  The officer gave an exaggerated sigh and put his hands on his hips.  
  
    “If a glowrat’s involved, it’ll be one of those shifter folks.  And I know the only shifter in these parts, and where they live.  Come on, lad, I’ll show you how to walk there.”  The dog started off down the sidewalk with Hyden following close behind, hoping against hope that the officer was referencing Evgenija.  Domino had said Cubi were rare in Ti’baltr, right?


	8. Long Knives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cubi can be powerfully evil if you want them to be.

**Chapter 8-  Long Knives**  
  
    His insurance couldn’t cover regenerating both the hand and the eye, Domino’s doctor had told him.  The eye would be the cheaper thing to regenerate, and the insurance company could get him a good prosthetic hand.  But the prosthetic would pose other complications.  The ferret was glad that Ti’baltic doctors had mindshields in place, or Evgenija would have likely picked up something.  
  
    She was having enough problems with his inability to deal with the loss of his ship and crew than to worry about medical problems.  
  
     _”The ship’s stern section is stuck on the reef.  We’re dragging it down to hand over to the Mer.”_  
  
    The words of his third officer, Zoos, echoed in his mind while the doctor strapped him down to an operating table.  He’d have preferred to kept his pants given the cold steel, but at least the hospital gown wasn’t backless.  
  
     _”Final totals say the ship went down with thirty hands.  We’re the only Beings among the survivors, Captain.”_  
  
    And Zoos had only survived because Urd threw him bodily off the ship with a lifeboat.  Everyone else had died either in the initial attack, or from wounds incurred.  Many of the survivors had seen the business end of a shark.  Among the dead, Isarra Que’tnar was a surprising name.  Domino had thought she’d bailed the second the ship started sinking.  
  
    The doctor dulled the ferret’s senses in his stump and eye socket.  Not totally deadening, as some sense was needed to confirm functionality.  Nurses and another doctor hovered over him, while Domino’s doctor removed the glass eye, and adjusted equipment beyond the ferret’s vision.  
  
    The attackers had been two Demons, both female.  The younger was the distraction, getting the most combat able of the crew in one place while the older launched a magical strike to take them out.  That’s how the bosun and most of the junior officers died.    
  
    Domino winced as a cold liquid was poured into his eye socket, some sort of cleaning agent he heard the doctors mutter about.  They’d wanted to put him to sleep for the operation.  The ferret’s reaction was a solid ‘no’.  Followed by an emphatic and threatening ‘no’ when the doctor pushed the issue.  
  
    No one who survived the wreck accurately remembered the older Demon’s appearance,  but the younger was added to the list of active bounties.  A female Demon sheep, green and blue fleece, scale mail, sabre as main weapon.  According to Zoos, Domino had nearly killed the younger one with a three-burst red gryphon spell.  
  
    They were multitasking now.  One doctor opening up the sealed wound of his stump, while the other started to get instruments into the eye socket.  The surge of magic filled the air, along with the pain of old wounds being opened and the scraping of steel on bone.  
  
    The funeral was being postponed as the Mer had indicated that they’d recovered a couple of crewman who had been trapped on the reef.  Negotiations for their return were underway.  Urd wasn’t among them; her soul stone was dark.  
  
    They’d made him take his choker off for the surgery, and most of Domino’s effort went to suppressing his magic from acting up.  They had a specialist waiting in the wings if he couldn’t, but the service was expensive, and money was getting tight.  After the initial pain, it was a matter of waiting.  
  
    Less than an hour later, the surgery team pulled away to let Domino adjust to the changes.  “Mr. Ti’balt,” his regular doctor told him.  “The prosthesis is working fine, you should have total vision in your left eye now.”  
  
    Blessed depth perception.  The shaped metal ball layered in bronze and a glowing rune where the pupil was supposed to be, it fit like a glove in the empty socket.  It was a bit sticky in regards to changing focus with the organic eye, hopefully something that would work out with use.  
  
    “Could you try moving your hand, Mr. Ti’balt?”  The digits felt like the limb had been asleep rather than bitten off; the fingers stung from pins and needles at his movement.  For a minute, the fingers made tiny jerking movements at the first knuckle, and the muscles wanted to curl into a fist.  “A little adjustment,” the doctor touched a hand glowing with magic to the limb, “and there we go.  You’re going to have to build your muscles in the hand back up, but you should be fine.”  
  
    The doctors and nurses left while Domino stood and went for his stuff.  Being part of the big family in town earned him a private operating room if not totally sliding on the bill.  Evgenija was being kept in a nearby waiting room while the ferret was operated upon, and soon he was out to collect her after getting dressed.  
  
    “You’re certain on needing your hand more than your eye?”  The Kebrian asked as they strolled down the streets of Ti’baltr, Surprise floating with them while chewing on a candy bar the vulture had bought it.  
  
    “Yep.  Definitely.  Ooh, let’s go to Swoon’s place,” the ferret said enthusiastically, “she’ll love the new look!”  
  
    “We don’t have time for you to visit your… romantic companion.”  Domino had turned and given her a saccharine smile prompting her to chose a less insulting term than what she had likely intended.  The two were synching up like that.  
  
    “Of course we do, I need to stop for lunch and you need more of that soap that doesn’t mess with your dye.”  The vulture woman sighed, defeated, while the ferret rushed ahead to Rainbow Road and Swoon.  
  
    “Petit,” the Angel said as she shampooed Evgenija’s hair after they arrived.  “I am thankful you did not bring her to me in an awful state again.”  Domino sat in the waiting area while other woman and other hairdressers worked in the booths.  He’d found a very nice crawdad cart; and was eating them in between Swoon glancing in his direction.  “Is the water to cold, chère?”  
  
    “No, it is adequate,” replied the vulture.  “Why are there slices of zucchini over my eyes?”  
  
    “Its tradition.”  Then came the shampoo.  “Has mon petit been a good host?”  
  
    “A bit flippant, but he sees to my needs adequately.”  Both ferret and cat gave her a moment to realize the double-meaning of what she said, and Domino at least enjoyed her flustered attempts to deny and retract the statement.  
  
    “I can see to the next customer,” said one of Swoon’s girls as she took the money and tip from her previous customer.  An elderly cow Being stepped up to the counter and was escorted to a chair.  The ferret was content to sit and wait for Swoon to finish on Evgenija, and eat his crawdads.  
  
    A shadow passed behind him, someone out on the street walking by.  A succubus; headwings exposed, unusual, tall with the tell tale nose of a bat-  
  
    Domino almost turned over his bag of crawdads as he turned to stand in the chair and look out the window.  He knew he’d moved fast enough that the person should still have been there; but the sidewalk outside was vacant of a figure that could have cast the shadow.  
  
    “Something going on outside, petit?”  Swoon’s tone was politely concerned.  The ferret didn’t respond at first, sitting back down first.  
  
    “Just thought I’d saw a familiar shadow.”  It was stupid, Domino told himself.  Urd never went out with her headwings exposed; she’d often do with breeches while on shore leave so that people couldn’t see her clan mark.  Many a Demon would mock her for her clan’s weakness.  
  
    The Tri-winged succubus Canora had been a diplomat, a great negotiator.  And when the chips were down, she’d had no real strength to fight back against someone who had no interest in talking.  The remnants of her clan, all sixteen of them, served Ti’baltr now.  
  
    Canora, Que’tnar, Une’jysune, the three pocket clans of the island nation.  Of the three, Une’jysune’s remnants were the most likely to give Evgenija a decent eduation but they’d still recommend her attending the mysterious ‘academy’ part-time.  Canora would be bitter about the loss of their only child in centuries, Urd.  And Que’tnar’s clan would likely just lock Domino in a box, tie that box to Evgenija, and send her to the academy anyway.  
  
    For all of their administrative skill, the Que’tnars weren’t the most stable of people.  As Isarra had demonstrated; they didn’t care that she was dead.  
  
    To go unmourned by your own family… Domino hadn’t liked her, but she didn’t deserve that.  She’d served with merit for eight centuries, and all she got for it was a white cross in the TTC’s graveyard.  
  
    An incubus of Une’jysune would be stopping by the house the next day to help with some absolute basics, and to make the pitch of part-time academy work.  Domino would be there, so if she wanted a tour, no problem.  
  
    He hadn’t realized how much he was brooding over the situation until someone picked him up under the arms and was carrying him to a booth.  “Ma belle,” he grumbled, “I have legs.”  
  
    “I’m not your ‘belle’, Domino,” said a grumbling voice familiar to the ferret.  Looking up, he saw the slightly annoyed face of a swan Phoenix, her raspberry red hair in loose curls, similarly colored eyes alight with amusement betraying her voice.  “Long time no see.”  
  
    “Aina, darling,” the ferret crooned putting on a smile he didn’t feel.  “Good to see you again, ma belle tells me you’re getting along well.”  
  
    “Better now,” she sat him down in a chair and motioned for him to take off his coat.  He’d worn a sleeveless shirt, so she clearly saw the divide in new and old fur on his regenerated hand.  “I see someone’s been to the  hospital.”  
  
    “A wound of a gallant battle that I’ll have to tell you sometime,” the ferret never wanted her to know what happened that night.  He didn’t know himself, and the Phoenix and Urd had been frenemies.  “Now what am I in for today?”  
  
    “Miss Swoon said you wanted a haircut and shampoo, anything else I should know about?”  Domino shook his head, and the Phoenix shrugged.  “Then we’re good.”  She threw a barber’s cloak over the ferret, and started to trim.  Not enough to show his amulet, though.  And after that, the shampooing.  
  
    Aina huffed when she saw Domino had taken a bite out of one of the zucchini on his eyes.  “Can I help it if they’re delicious, Aina?”  
  
    “You most certainly can; your friend did.”  The shampooing continued from there, scrubbing, rinsing, soaking.  “So, I heard your ship sank.”  Any good mood Domino had developed burned away in moments.  “I, um.  Got an invitation to the funeral.”  
  
    The ferret deeply wanted to find the person in charge of those invitations and to set them on fire.  But he didn’t let it show in his expression.  “It’s been postponed.  The Mer found survivors, we’re negotiating for their release.”  He didn’t like talking about it, and tried to imply that in the monotone he said it in, but he knew why Aina was asking.  
  
    “I see… I just wanted you to know, I’m here if you need to talk, and I’m in a good spot… Hardol’s going to therapy, maybe he’ll get a job soon.”  
  
    “You know he won’t,” the ferret flexed his new hand, popping the knuckles as he clenched it into a fist. “I’ll have a new job soon, and your next check.  Don’t worry.”  Her hands stopped massaging his scalp.  
  
    “It isn’t about the money, Domino-”  
  
    “I know what it’s about, Aina.”  The ferret took off the partially eaten zucchini from his eye and finished it off.  “We’re friends, you’re worried about me, yadda yadda, and I made certain promises which I might not be able to keep and you’re worried, blah blah blah.  It’s a personal problem, I’ll deal with it.  And I’ll have some money for you in short order, don’t worry.”  
  
    The swan huffed, returning to her work on Domino’s hair.  “You don’t have to be rude, you know.”  
  
    “You didn’t have to broach a topic you knew I wouldn’t be comfortable talking about.  We all make mistakes.”  Neither of the two spoke to each other while in the store.  And afterward was Evgenija’s meeting at the Adventurer’s Guild.  
  
    Based in the fort from which all Ti’baltr had grown, the guildhall was one of the most rigid pieces of architecture in the city, both artistically and structurally.  The poor old building needed repairs every time there was a tropical disturbance.  
  
    Domino didn’t take too active a role during the vulture cubi’s processing.  Many of the younger members and trainees wanted to know why a succubus would be an adventurer; which she responded to politely and firmly:  
  
    “I was an adventurer before I was a succubus.”  
  
    That seemed enough for them, and aside from confused looks, none gave her any trouble.  From there, it was training.  Knife combat, knife throwing, stealth, flight, and basic fitness.  The ferret felt a bit inadequate given how fit everyone in the guildhall seemed to be, even other ferrets, and so closed his jacket, and sat in a corner while Evgenija was tested.  
  
    “Hey, Cousin.”  And as usual, he was bothered by someone rather than allowed to think in peace.  The ferret didn’t need to turn to see who it was.  Marlyn, his cousin.  Older and positively ripped for a ferret or a woman, her light brown hair kept to a short braid, and her wardrobe consisting of breeches, boots, a tank-top and a vest jacket.  “Why so blue?”  
  
    “Not now, Cousin,” the ferret growled.  “I’m not in the mood to deal with you.”  
  
    “Well tough-shit, princess.”  The she-ferret punched Domino in what was likely meant to be a playful way, but transmitted as painful. “We all got to do thing we don’t like.”  Evgenija was being shown the worth of incorporating a Ti’baltic throwing axe, the tomahawk, into her armory in the distance.  “She that foreigner you’re chaperoning?”  
  
    “As if Aunt Flo didn’t tell you- ow!”  The ferret winced and rubbed his shoulder from the obviously intended for pain punch.  
  
    “Don’t call my mom that, jerkass. I’m here to offer you a job out of the goodness of my heart.”  Domino rolled his eyes and started counting things off on his fingers.  
  
    “One, the Antiquity already has a captain.  Two, I’m pretty sure the Company isn’t going to trust me with another ship.  Three, I’m pretty sure I don’t trust me with another ship.”  Marlyn nodded understandably and returned the gesture.  
  
    “One,” she whirled and punched the younger ferret in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him.  “As if I’d give you my boat!  Two,” she returned to her previous position and continued as if Domino was not wheezing for air on the ground.  “The Company won’t.  Three, grow a spine.”  She gave him a winning smile that made Domino realized how punchable that expression was.  “Anyway, I was more going to pull strings, get you a job as an Adventurer.”  
  
    “I have a kid now, Cousin,” the male groaned.  “I can’t go wandering off for months.”  
  
    “Then don’t.  Stay on the Big Island, plenty of adventure to be had.”  Domino got back to his seat and glared at her.  “Or stay at home, brood, live off the stipend of your two friends, oh wait.”  Her grin turned into a scowl.  “The stipend for her ends in eighteen month, the stipend for the kid ends in two years.  And you have a little in breach of contract hussy you’re keeping afloat, right?  Looks like you need money and don’t have a lot of options.”  
  
    “You leave Aina out of this.”  
  
    “I won’t so long as she’s giving you problems, and by extension me problems because your mom complains to my mom who complains to me.”  Once more the buff ferret punched Domino in the shoulder.  “So suck it up and take the job.”  
  
    “Or what?”  The woman ferret blinked at the male, who arched a brow at her along with a flat expression.  “You’ll put me in the burn ward for six months because I told you no again?”  And her expression went to awkward, a mix of obviously wanting to be angry, but also kind of humiliated.  
  
    “It was an _accident_ , you stupid little idiot!  I didn’t mean for it to hit you!”  
  
    “You got upset at me for telling you no, and minutes later a _molotov_ hits me, odd coincidence.”  The male felt sweet vengeance at watching his cousin squirm under the inquiry.  
  
    “It was supposed to scare you, not hit you, how many times do I have to say sorry before you’ll listen?!”  She groaned, putting her head into her hands.  “I’m trying to be nice here, Dom.”  
  
    “You come to me,” the male started, acid dripping from his words, “after the death of my ship, my lieutenant, and half of my crew, after being made a parent and a lifeline for a total stranger, after putting their needs ahead of mine for almost a month now, and say ‘suck it up and get a job’.”  Domino stood, adjusting his coat, looking nothing like the near-murderously angry thing he felt like.  “Cousin, thanks for the offer.  Maybe once I think on it a bit, I’ll take it.  In the meantime, Marlyn?”  He got close to her, the rune of his false eye flaring to project a small magical fire, while the other fought against the amulet to slit.  “Go to hell you friggen bitch.”  
  
    He left then, to stand by Evgenija’s side and pretend to be interested for the rest of their time at the guildhall.  The time for school dismissal was coming soon, so Domino got the vulture’s attention for the matter of picking Hyden up.  
  
    “Surprise,” she told the warp-aci.  “Take these bags home first, then go to the school to pick up Hyden.”  The handed some woven fabric bags to the bird-like ‘aci, who grumbled before teleporting off.  “What’s next?”  
  
    “I need to get the phone at the house connected to the network, and fighting with my old landlord over the security deposit,” the ferret told her with far too much excitement for the topics.  “Ready?”  
  
    “As ready as I am to kill myself, yes.”  
  
    The landlord, after having a brief chat with Domino and Evgenija who conspicuously occupied herself with her gaping-maw tentacleheads during the proceedings, credited the safety deposit.  Which helped them get not just the house phone but personal mana phones for the trio.  
  
    He got Hyden a snowflake patterned phone, maybe giving him something to remember the good parts of Vecenstein would help his mental state.  Evgenija volunteered to call the house with hers while Domino set up Hyden’s.  
  
    “Surprise?”  She sounded confused for a moment as apparently the warp-aci picked up.  “Put Hyden on.  ...Well where is he?”  Domino grew alarmed by how quickly the girl puffed up from whatever the answer was.  “What do you mean he’s still at school.”  
  
    Now it was Domino’s turn to puff up as he easily jumped to Evgenija’s head height, and snatched the phone from her loose grip.  “Surprise, it’s me Domino.  Why is Hyden still at school?”  
  
    “Ch-yah,” the warp-aci scoffed.  “Because he’s not here yet, obviously.”  
  
    “But you were supposed to pick him up!”  
  
    “Oh, was I?  I knew there was something I was supposed to do but there was a funny monkey on television and-”  Domino quickly ended the call and tossed the phone back to Evgenija, who caught it numbly.  Both of them staring into space, they quickly concluded their business, paying for the phones and signing contracts, before leaving.  
  
    From there, they numbly hailed a cart gryphon, and flew through the darkening sky to Hyden’s school.  Both of them plotting how they were going to savagely murder the warp-aci if anything was wrong with the boy.

* * *

  
    “Is the tea to your liking, Hyden?”  
  
    The ram took a sip of his tea, his ears going straight up in surprise.  “This is yak butter tea,” the boy exclaimed.  “Like in Vecenstein!  How did you get it here?”  The other man chuckled, putting one leg over another as he reclined in his seat.  
  
    “I don’t know if my kind are native to the Union, but my species is from a colder climate as well.”  He wagged the long, bushy tail of a snow leopard to prove the point.  
  
    “Oh.  I um, didn’t see anyone like you there, Mr. Donya.”  The man held up a hand, shaking his head good naturedly.  
  
    “Please call me Dosve.”  
  
    The two were seated in an opulently decorated sitting room.  High backed leather chairs near a bay window with a lovely view of the night sky, oil portraits of people long dead decorating the walls, odds and ends placed on tables and shelves, a rich red and gold rug of a dying dragon on the floor.  Dosve Donya was wealthy, and this room was but a slice of it.  
  
    “So, you know Domino?”  
  
    “I was there when his mother went into labor with him,” the incubus told the Demon honestly.  Poor girl had been giving a presentation.  “Though he doesn’t know I moved out here.”  
  
    “He’ll be happy to see you, I bet.”  The ram’s enthusiasm shone in a toothless smile.  Odd for Demons.  “Thank you for taking care of that policeman.”  
  
    “The man was doing his job, he didn’t know you were a true citizen, and the good book tells us to open our doors to people in need.”  The snow leopard stretched his arms out, “and as you see, I have plenty to share.”  
  
    While they drank, Dosve examined the boy.  Bronze in his fur would do him well, bronze was the color of the Beings of Ti’baltr, they’d identify with him.  He almost completely contrasted Dosve’s own.  Blue and orange snow leopard pattern, to green and bronze speckles.  The boy dressed for civilian life, the cat dressed for a business meeting.  
  
    “You think Domino got your maid’s call yet?”  
  
    “Tiring of an old man’s presence so soon?”  Dosve smiled warmly, burning through the boy’s awkwardness.  “If you promise not to set the room on fire while I’m gone, I’ll go check with her.  Be right back.”  Pushing off from the chair, the snow leopard walked out of the sitting room, closing the door behind him and silently locking it.  
  
    As he went down the hall, his form changed.  From feline to canine, from happy-faced to grim, from colorful fur to drab gray.  From business suit to button-up shirt, slacks, and trench coat.  
  
    The maid gave him a report of the ferret and vulture en route to the school in a cart-gryphon’s company.  An order was given to divert them to the manor, and the maid bowed away.  With that done, Dosve entered the room directly behind the sitting room, where two important guests were shackled to a steel table.  
  
    Captured in the air over the jungle, they’d been roaming around the edge of Ti’baltr.  From what their dreams had revealed, they were going to try and pose as tourists and wander the town for their quarry.  Two Demon ewes, both green and blue.  One marked in the pattern of lightning, another in smooth waves.  And one in the midst of recovering from a miscarriage.  
  
    “Oresse and Auriga Bloodstone,” the incubus said in a gravelly voice, naming the two.  “Thank you for joining me here.”  The Demon ewes looked like hell.  Auriga missing part of a horn, both of them covered in cuts and scrapes, the older one, Oresse looked like she had a broken arm that wasn’t healing correctly.  That’d need to be fixed.  “I think you’ll enjoy seeing this.”  
  
    A gesture, and a segment of the wall turned into a window, beyond which the two Demons could see the boy, sipping his tea, happy as a teen could get.  The older one grew agitated, pulling at her shackles uselessly, standing, and shouting for the boy.  Dosve almost felt sorry as he roughly pushed her back to her seat.  The ram hadn’t heard them, the room was soundproofed.  
  
    “What do you want?”  The younger, Auriga, said.  She’d been giving Dosve daggers since he entered the room, not doing more than glancing at the boy behind the magic window.  He could feel the rage and worry writhing under a layer of forced calm.  From Oresse, all he was getting was longing, worry, and despair.  She certainly wasn’t taking her family’s genocide well.  
  
    “Well, I’d like you two to co-operate and stop trying to fight your way out of a situation you can’t win.”  The ‘dog’ walked behind the two, their wings gone from the Creature-Being amulets sewn onto their fur, resting his hands on their shoulders.  
  
    “My son,” Oresse Bloodstone babbled around her broken nose, vainly trying to reach for Hyden through the mirror despite the obvious impossibility.  “Please, he didn’t do anything.”  As if he’d hurt the most promising candidate for the throne since Mikhail himself had lived.  As if he’d harm someone under his own protection.  
  
    “He’s fine, Oresse.”  Dosve leaned in to whisper in the seven hundred year old Demon’s ear, “can’t say the same for the both of you, though.”  Going back to his full height, the incubus made a circuit of the table.  “Now, the two of you… you attacked one of our ships.  Killed our people.  Ruined a perfectly good captain.”  Auriga kept trying to follow Dosve as he circled them, while Oresse seemed obsessed with Hyden in the window.  
  
    “So you will kill us?  Get revenge?”  The younger ewe growled, baring fangs reduced in threat from the amulet.  “Then why show us that Hyden is safe?”  Poor Isarra had underestimated the ‘cousin’ of the boy.  Perhaps not the powerhouse her father and aunt were, she seemed to be asking the smart questions more than either.  Unusual for Demons her age.  
  
    “Safe, and this is the important bit, happy.”  Oresse stopped reaching to look at Dosve as he leaned on the table.  His voice was absent of pity from there on, “happier than he ever could have been in that backwards town with either of you as his only protection from being made a meal.”  Auriga flinched, Oresse’s shoulders shook like she was going to cry.  
  
    “What.  Do.  You.  Want?”  Dosve fought the urge to snap at the impertinence, but that would just land him with another ‘abuse of prisoners’ charge again.  God damned liberals in the policy makers.  
  
    “I want the pair of you to agree to serving a not terribly lengthy prison sentence,” Dosve nodded his head with each point, trying to make it sound as reasonable as possible.  “I want the pair of you to agree to a long stint as minions of the Company, going places where we can’t send valuable Ti’baltic citizens who may die.  Oh, and I’d like it if both of you could lay with some of my men, and produce at least one child in case the weakling in there,” he jerked his thumb to the window and to Hyden, “dies before we can wring one out of him.”  
  
    “You vile, sick- monster!”  Oresse found her voice again.  Wonderful.  Dosve fought the urge to roll his eyes before responding.  
  
    “Miss Bloodstone, let’s not pretend you’re anything but marauding murderer with a side order of enemy combatant.”  Auriga was thinking.  He could see bits and pieces of her thoughts, but she knew he was listening in.  Thinking in code, numbers, hiding bits of thoughts behind her cracked mind shield.  “But I see you need further convincing.”  
  
    “You ask us to become incubators, we’re people!”  
  
    “No, you’re Demons.  Big difference there, as the crew of the Harridan found out.”  Dosve snapped his fingers, and a sheet of paper appeared in a shower of gold sparks.  He laid it out between them, and stood again to stand between them.  “I did a little bloodwork on Hyden, make sure he was who Isarra thought he was, and would you look at that.”  The incubus pointed to a line of information that made both of the females stiff with shock.  “Explains a lot, doesn’t it.”  
  
    “You can’t tell him,” Oresse pleaded.  “Please, I’ll do anything- It’d break his heart!”  
  
    “I know.”  Dosve didn’t hide how much he enjoyed having her in this state.  Word on the street was he was a monster.  “Agree to the terms I put forth, and I bury this report in the deepest, darkest hole I can find.”  
  
    “And if we don’t?”  Auriga questioned, eyes on Dosve, not the horrified look Oresse was giving her.  “What happens if we say no?  Or if I say no?”  
  
    Sighing, the ‘dog’ picked up the paper, folded it, and placed it within his coat.  “If you say no, you go back to the cells until you say yes.  But I submit my findings to the Company, unedited.  And that means, eventually he’ll find out.”  
  
    “Please,” the older Demon pleaded with the younger.  
  
    “It was _your_ mistake, Oresse,” the younger ewe snarled.  “And you ask me to give up my freedom for it?”  She sighed.  Dosve could smell the sweet emotion of defeat upon her.  Beautiful.  “How long of a prison sentence?”  
  
    “One hundred and five years each.”  Auriga looked devastated; from her file she was only fifty years old, so that could be understood.  “Followed by fifty years of service.  Every child you agree to have will cut five years off your prison time.”  He snapped again, and two parchment contracts appeared before the Demons.  “This is a limited time offer.  Going once.”  
  
    “Auriga, please-  
  
    “Going twice.”  
  
    “Grr, fine!  Fine!  I accept your terms.”  He poked her in the nose with one finger, and pointed to the contract.  
  
    “Blood fingerprint, then.”  Oresse hastily scraped some from her broken nose off on her hand and pressed it to the parchment, while Auriga bit her finger and pressed it.  As they pulled away, the bloodprints sank into the paper, before being replaced with flowing signatures written in what would appear as red ink.  “Pleasure doing business with you, ladies.”  
  
    He picked up the contracts, and left the room, handing them off to a maid who was waiting outside with a healer for the women.  Once the doctor was tending them, Dosve cut off the window letting them see into the sitting room.  He ignored the wails of Oresse as he closed the door, and walked back down the hall, assuming the form of a blue and orange business suit snow leopard on the way.  
  
    “Hey Hyden,” he said as he popped his head back in.  “Domino’s on his way with a gryphon cart, would you like my maid to bring you something to eat while you wait?”  
  
    “Oh, thanks!   I am really hungry,” said the young Demon awkwardly.  “Got any meat?”  
  
    “I’m a carnivore too, lad.  I’ll have her send up something to keep you from going on a hunger rampage, don’t worry.”  He left the boy in peace, energized from the misery, rage, betrayal and shame of the ewes the boy so desperately wanted to know were okay, and less than twenty feet away from him.  
  
    And perhaps in fifty years, he’d know.  And be upset, but by then Dosve would in a much better position to deal with him then.  
  
    ‘The gold, only blood can inherit.  The silver is chosen by merit.  And third, the bronze, though many despair it, can only ever be held by a ferret.’  Gold and bronze were soon going to be full, leaving only silver vacant.  Perhaps, Dosve thought, it was time to turn to politics.


	9. Neapolitan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three character POVs, one chapter!

**Chapter 9- Neapolitan**  
  
    The cart gryphon changed course mid-air after having a brief chat consisting of ‘chi’ in various tones and inflections with another, salt and pepper patterned gryphon.  It shook Evgenija out of her stupor, as she coughed loudly to get the blue gryphon’s attention, and from there learned that the second gryphon had brought word that what the passengers were looking for was elsewhere.  
  
    Which made Evgenija question what insane air traffic control laws that this fool nation had that the gryphon flying the cart could choose where it went beyond what it’s rider told it to do.  The presumption!  Something she was noticing, as she huffed back into her seat was that no one in the country had a sense of what ‘place’ they were in.  
  
    Domino was a noble, yet he served in a military role, and then a civilian one as a homemaker.  The Swoon woman was a merchant but likely longed to become a noble by marrying Domino at some point.  The merchants talked back to the customer, the civil workers unafraid to ask deeply personal questions… It was if social convention did not exist in Ti’baltr.  
  
    It did, she remembered.  But with different focuses.  Such as giving gifts of pearls to waitresses, or some such nonsense.  Maybe taking a course on local mannerisms was in order.  Or she could try teaching the whole nation to act like _normal_ people.  
  
    The scenery was changing from a semi-forested suburb to a heavily forested region with a foot path visible through the canopy, leading to a low-built, sprawling manor in the woods.  Constructed of stone, with greenhouses along the back, and a sizable garden with a small maze.  Almost what she expected of some noble.  Perhaps one of Domino’s relatives had picked up Hyden?  
  
    “I don’t know who lives here,” the ferret said looking over the side of the cart at the house, after she asked.  The gryphon was spiralling to land in front of the main doors, constructed of ebony wood almost in their entirety.  “Whoever it is, they have money flowing out of their ears.”  
  
    “A crude, if accurate summation,” the vulture conceded, standing from her seat and stepping down off the cart in what she thought was a regal way.  There were torches of blue fire along the stone patio before the ebony door, the light playing on the carved depiction of a quadrapedal Mythos with a frilled head, and jaws agape.  “Is the owner of the house expecting us to knock?”  
  
    “Mais,” the ferret replied, handing a glittering green gem off to the gryphon who cooed in delight.  “It would not be so unusual.  We are the ones coming to him… or her for help.”  Leaving the bird to marvel at it’s shiny stone, the pair ascended the stone stairs, passed over the patio, and went to the door.  
  
    “I do not see the knocker.”  
  
    “Ma chère, these doors are ebony.”  Domino’s tone was of gentle chiding, which irked the vulture.  “Do you know how hard you’d have to hit them to make a loud knock?  The term is mostly metaphorical in this instance.”  He  leaned to the sides of the double-doors and pressed at segment of the masonry resembling a small carved flower.  A series of gongs rang out from somewhere inside the manor.  
  
    “What was that?  Magic?”  A simple but inventive solution to using such sturdy materials in the making of a door.  Maybe it was used in the noble residences of Kebre as well, she pondered.  
  
    “A doorbell, ma chère.”  The ferret arched a brow at Evgenija, who was grateful once more for the red dye in her feathers keeping her blush from being visible.  Moments later, the ebony doors opened a crack, allowing a female white cat in a maid’s outfit to peak out.  “Um, hello.  Have you seen a Demon sheep around here?  Skinny wings, green fleece?”  
  
    “Yes,” the maid said softly.  “He is in the dining room with Master Donya.”  Evgenija sensed surprise from Domino, but didn’t notice his facial expression change.  “Please come inside, I will see if they are finished.”  The doors swung open revealing a stone foyer of gray stone similar to the exterior, decorated with chandeliers of glittering crystal, a rich blue carpet that went up the grand staircase, and oil paintings set into recesses along the walls.  A pair of royal blue couches with gold accents were set to opposite sides of the room, next to doors of mixed wood and stone.  
  
    The maid bade them to sit on one such couch while she vanished off into the house.  “This Donya is one of your relatives?”  The vulture inquired into the quiet.  
  
    “Friend of the family,” Domino replied, kicking his feet in the air.  “Don’t know why he’d have brought Hyden here.”  Thoughts of a tall snow leopard of gaudy blue and orange coloration floated from Domino’s mind.  Feelings of warmth, trust, and a slight amount of fear.  
  
    “You’re afraid of him?”  The ferret gave her a miffed look.  
  
    “Would you stop peeking into my head already?  I thought you’d be bored with it by now.”  Evgenija smiled faintly.  As much as politeness would allow.  
  
    “But it’s so interesting to look into the mind of a madman.”  
  
    “I’m mad, then?”  
  
    “Of course.  You’re Ti’baltic, and all Ti’baltic people are mad.”  The ferret huffed, and didn’t answer the question.  Instead, he stared off at the painting beside the couch opposite them.  Noticing her question would not be answered, she joined him.  The picture depicted a war between Angels and Demons, fighting over a region of gold with an empty space in the shape of a crown.  In the bottom right corner was a brown ferret sneaking off with the crown.  An allegory for Ti’baltr’s founding.  
  
    The door near them opened outward, and from around it came Hyden looking none the worse for wear.  Still, both the ferret and the vulture got to their feet and were fussing over the retrieved ram for a minute before they noticed the amused chuckle of someone else in the midst.  
  
    Standing in the door frame was the snow leopard from Domino’s mind; a base of blue with orange spots, loosely curled dark blue hair, feathered wings of blue and orange from his back and head.  Bearing teeth of glittering white in a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, he bowed and offered his hand to Evgenija.  
  
    “Dosve Donya, lord of the house.  Charmed to meet you, my lady.”  Evgenija offered her hand, despite a growing sense of unease, and to her surprise the cat kissed it like a proper gentleman should, before releasing the gesture and standing up.  “Your lost ram was brought here by police who assumed I was his parran.”  
  
    “Sorry uncle,” Domino started, shrugging and trying to smile.  “Our glowrat got mixed priorities and forgot to pick him up.”  The snow leopard’s smile lessened, and he looked at Evgenija appraisingly.  Not to be outdone by some insane Ti’baltic incubus, she felt around for the snow leopard’s emotions and recoiled at what she found.  
  
Hunger, all consuming hunger.  Hunger that made her want to clamp her beak down around Domino’s neck and feast on his flesh.  But she didn’t, forcing the intense emotion away.  After a moment, the snow leopard tilted his head to the side, confused.  
  
    “A basic emotion filter, no mind shield, but able to resist an emotion jammer successfully.  And all before you should have even manifested your headwings.”  Dosve smiled at her, genuine this time.  “Can’t wait to see how you develop.  But!”  The house master clapped his hands together emphatically.  “It grows late, some of our number have class on the morrorw, and others have work to do.  I expect Domino to visit now that he knows I’m here.”  
  
    “Yes uncle,” the ferret said, resignedly.  
  
    “Good.  Lovely to have you as my guest, Hyden.  Good to see you again, Domino.  And well met Evgenija.”  It wasn’t until they were in the cart back to the house that the vulture realized she hadn’t given the snow leopard her name.

* * *

  
    “Please let me out!”  
  
    “No.”  
  
    “I promise I’ll be good next time!  It was an easy mistake.”  
  
    “You ignored my orders in favor of watching television, Surprise.”  
  
    “But it was good television!  Not that gunk that’s on in the mornings!”  Evgenija, tired of hearing the excuses of the bird-like ‘aci placed the glass jar she’d forced it into in the top cupboard, and closed the door on it’s last pleading shouts.  Some time out would serve the creature well, in lieu of the lash.  
  
    Domino was about the house, using his new hand to see to minor repairs.  Shelves being wobbly, cleaning out the gutters, tending to the roof grass.  Evgenija, meanwhile, was starting on lunch.  A type of beef noodle soup called ‘ramen’ that she had found in one of the cookbooks from the house’s attic.  
  
     No decent Kebrian food, but she would not let the foreign dish best her, gathering ingredients that she had to search cupboards for like ‘soy’ sauce or ‘miso’ paste.  The names didn’t sound Ti’baltic, so she had to guess the foods were foreign even to the mad country.  
  
    This was her life now.  Playing cook, nanny and laundress to a teenage Demon boy, and a depressed, disgraced ship captain in a foreign country.  Her old life in ruins.  Her career shattered.  All because-  
  
     _Anevka, bound and choking on a garrote.  The vampire dog that would kill her batting aside Evgenija’s attacks._  
  
    The vulture stabbed the flank steak needed in the recipe with the carving knife so fiercely that it buried itself in the plastic cutting board.  She could feel the iron grip of suppression she’d had on the emotions around her mother’s death and the loss of four years of her life slipping.  “Not now,” she said to herself, mustering will to lock the emotion away, liquid gathering in her eyes.  “Not yet.”  
  
    “Not yet, what?”  She froze at hearing Domino’s voice, and a moment later Domino himself padding into the kitchen.  “Are you okay, ma chère?”  
  
    “I am not your ‘chère’, whatever that word means,” the vulture hissed, forcing the emotions back into their mental box.  “And I’m fine.”  She couldn’t keep doing that.  The coping mechanism was meant to prevent dealing with trauma until it was safe.  
  
    But she couldn’t grieve.  Crying was ugly.  Wailing in mourning unsightly.  Anevka would never approve of outwardly grieving anything, just as she never approved of funerals.  “You don’t look fine, Evgenija,” the ferret said, a bit of worry creeping into his emotional state, through the layer of pain that constantly surrounded him.  
  
    “How I look, and how I am are two vastly different things.”  The succubus gripped the stuck carving knife, and yanking it out.  “Now I have cooking to do, begone.”  Domino looked from the woman’s glare, to the incomplete food, before turning to leave.  
  
    “You’re using the wrong knife for that,” he called over his shoulder.

* * *

  
    “So doing this will help me, hrnf, get stronger?”  Hyden pulled at the metal bars, lifting himself so that his chin cleared the top bar.  The assembly was confusingly called monkey bars, despite the extreme few monkeys who attended the school.  His arms were burning from the workout, but the other Demon told him that was natural.  
  
    “Yeah.  If you keep doing it every day for a few minutes, your upper body strength will improve.”  The dog said, not having any problems with the pull-ups.  He wasn’t even using his wings to help, as Hyden was.  Tyrone Backbreaker, the dog’s name was, and proud to say   
  
    “I think I’m at my limit.”  Hyden hated how whiny he sounded when he said that, and was about to drop down from the bars, but Tyrone beat him to it.  The dog started pushing on Hyden’s feet to push him up over the bar more.  “What are you doing?”  
  
    “Spotting you.  Now lift!”  The beefier Demon didn’t care for the odd looks the Being children were giving, or the strange respect coming from Demon kids, instead focusing on lifting Hyden until the ram just couldn’t keep his grip on the bars, and fell over backwards into the sand.  
  
    “Owwww.”  
  
    “Man, you’re in terrible shape,” the dog Demon said as he stood over Hyden a moment before pulling the ram to his feet.  “What have you been doing, nothing but reading?”  
  
    “Yeah,” Hyden groaned, “it’s pretty much all I had to do with my free time.”  His arms hung limply by his sides, but a pins and needles feeling was going through them as his regeneration took care of the soreness.  
  
    “That’s crazy, you could train and scrap and explore!”  Tyrone’s expression was confused, but became excited near the end of his sentence.  “Where do you live?  I can come over on the weekends and help you work out if you like?”  Hyden thought about it.  Domino had said to make friends that he could hang out with when Evgenija needed to go into town… and without Surprise to pick him up, it was a long walk to and from school.  Having someone to talk with would be nice.  
  
    “Alright.”  Hyden pushed his arms to move his right hand into a thumbs up.  “Only if I can do the same.”  
  
    “Awesome!  I gotta ask my mom today, and I’ll make sure none of my brothers try to eat you if you can come over!”  The dog Demon whacked Hyden in the shoulder, prompting the ram to lock up and keel over.  “You okay there?”  
  
    “Yeah, fine.  Just working through the searing pain.”  Hyden replied through clenched teeth, while slowly relaxing.  The bell that signaled the end of lunch break rang, and the ram once more had to struggle to stand up.  
  
    “Hmm, your regen sucks,” Tyrone said offhandedly, like it wasn’t slightly insulting.  “You’re going to have to scrap a lot to get it up, but I’ll help!”  He grinned, showing impressive chompers for his teeth.  “Now come on, let’s get you back to class before Zenuma tries to lecture me.”  The dog picked up the ram, and threw the smaller boy over his shoulder, running back to the classroom.  
  
    “Tyrone, I can walk you know!”  The younger kids were watching, some even laughing a bit.  Most of the kids in his age bracket however just saw it as normal.  “Come on, people are laughing.”  
  
    “Who cares what they think?”  The dog didn’t even seem slowed down by the ram’s tone.  “I’m doing you a favor, getting you to class without straining yourself, enjoy the ride!”  Between the options of watching the kids giggle a bit at Hyden’s expense, or watch Tyrone’s thin tail wag happily, the choices in view were limited to say the least.  
  
    “Tyrone, why are you carrying Hyden around?”  The ram turned to see Renet’s tail bobbing in the air as she jogged alongside the dog Demon.  
  
    “Oh, he just wore himself out doing some light exercise.  Kind of a pansy, really.  But I’ll have him in proper shape in no time!”  Hyden grunted when the dog started to ascend the stairs, his gut jamming into Tyrone’s shoulder with each bounce.  
  
    “You know he can hear you, right?”  The ram actually rose an eyebrow at the cow’s concerned tone.  Hadn’t she been going to this school for years?  
  
    “This is how Demons help each other, Renet.  Why gussy up words when getting right to the point works so much better?”  
  
    “He’s right,” Hyden grumbled.  “It isn’t polite, but it’s how most Demons do things.”  
  
    “Well… don’t you care how other people feel?”  Tyrone shook his head, while Hyden shrugged.  
  
    “Feelings are nice, but sometimes you can’t afford to be nice in a Demon family.”  The ram remembered the long, rambling rants his uncle Rayl would go on about how Hyden’s weakness was an insult to his mother, to his grandfather, and everyone who had come before them.  It had hurt, hurt deep, but it needed to be said.  
  
    “That sounds… pretty bad.”  The ram couldn’t deny that, and the three remained quiet for the remainder of the trek back to class.  Over the course of the last two classes, Hyden got equal parts rest and more activity for his sore arms.  The trombone it turned out, was just what the musician ordered for the ram, and he had a grand time learning the basic notes while everyone else practiced a musical piece.  
  
    The blue jay Phoenix music teacher seemed happy that Hyden was happy, and gave him a booklet with trombone notes, and told him he could take it home if he wanted.  With the road between the house and school still so new to him, the ram decided not to do it that day; he’d do so when he was sure neither Domino or Evgenija would object to his attempts at music, or if it was safe to transport.  
  
    The history homework for that day referenced material covered earlier in the course, which sent Hyden flipping through the texbook to find.  However, a chapter caught his interest while skimming.  ‘The silk road’, a chapter on the trade route that allowed vast amounts of wealth to be transported over land; of the brigands that plagued the caravans, and the nations that sprung up around the road.  
  
    So engrossed in the story, Hyden didn’t notice the rest of the class getting up to go right away.   Bookmarking the chapter, he packed up and left.  This time at least, he knew in which direction to start walking.  
  
    “Hyden!”  Tyrone shouted and joined the ram on the dusty path up a series of hills and into the jungle, not five minutes away from the school.  “My mom said I could come over today.”  
  
    “That was fast.”  The ram looked up into the canopy for perchance a monkey, but only a snake in the branches was seen.  “Do you run fast or something?”  
  
    “Nah, my house is close to the school.”  The dog Demon jogged in place a bit, before making a quick circle around Hyden.  “Why’re you walking so slow?”  
  
    “I’m looking for monkeys in the trees.”  The ram did move a bit faster in response to the beefier Demon, a bit jealous of the dog’s seemingly endless energy.  
  
    “That’s silly.  You’re way too slow to catch a monkey.”  The dog switched to walking on his hands, still keeping up with Hyden’s pace despite the change.  “Your legs are so skinny!  They look like toothpicks!”  
  
    “Your legs are so thick,” Hyden grumbled, “they look like tree trunks.”  Checking to make sure no one was around to see, the ram quickly gave the dog’s legs a shove.  Immediately Tyrone started to teeter, flailing as he tried to regain balance, and ultimately tumbled into the brush.  
  
    He came out smiling, though he had a snake biting his nose.  A constrictor, easily pulled off and thrown back into the jungle.  “Not bad, though you hesitated a bit.”  Tyrone put his hands behind his head as they crested the hill and started down the road to Domino’s house.  “What you want to do is commit, like this.”  
  
    The dog’s leg lashed out, hooking behind Hyden’s, and kicking them out from under him.  The ram glared weakly at the dog as he continued walking while Hyden got back to his feet.  “Is this normal for kids to do?”  
  
    “Of course!  Why, were you raised in a convent or something?”  Tyrone started walking backward, grinning from ear to ear.  
  
    “Well, back in Vecenstein….”  
  
    “Vecenstein’s a dump compared to here.”  The ram fluffed up a bit at the direct insult, putting a bit more vigor into his gait to catch up to the dog Demon.  “Am I wrong?  Because I don’t think I am.”  
  
    “Vecenstein is my home.”  He tried to suppress the memories of Beings who only looked at him with bitterness.  Of family that preached togetherness but were anything but.  Of being trapped and unaware of anything to be done about it.  The boy tried, but the images and general sorrow that came with them remained.  “But… yeah.  I guess it is.”  
  
    “Then maybe the way they treat their kids is as crappy as their choice of locations.  ‘When in Ti’baltr, do as the Ti’balts do.’”  The dog stuck his tongue out at the ram, who still appeared slightly miffed.  “And in Ti’baltr, if it’s fun, you do it.”  
  
    The ram couldn’t dispute that.  People in the tropical nation seemed to enjoy their lives a lot more than those in the Union had.  “If it’s fun, huh?”  And with that, Hyden lobbed a magically generated snowball at the dog’s head.  The snow melted rapidly in the tropical heat; leaving the dog sputtering and wet while the ram went into a full run down the road.  
  
    “Ack, hey!  You get back here and tell me what that was!  No fair!”  The chase was on.

* * *

  
    Domino looked down at the pair of young Demons, covered in dirt and mud where water had gotten involved.  “Evgenija’s never going to let either of you into the house, you know,” he told them, arching a brow while putting his hands on his hips.  “Especially given how your friend wears his shirt.”  Standing on the porch while the two teens were in the yard gave the ferret a slight height advantage over them.  
  
    “Um, yeah.  I taught Tyrone how to do a snowball spell on the way here, and it got kind of out of hand,” the ram said, patting some road dirt out of his shirt.  Domino, gradually getting back into the fop persona had divided his rings between his two hands, put a bit of sandalwood oil in his fur, pants and shirt of different shades of blue silk, along with a white apron.  
  
    “Ah, Tyrone is it?  Nice to meet you, I’m Domino, Hyden’s parran,” the dog and ferret shook hands, with the dog not even seeming to care about his dust.  
  
    “Tyrone Backbreaker, sir.”  The dog said.  A good, Ti’baltic accent he had, hopefully the association would help erode Hyden’s Ister accent.  Just so jarring to hear when the ferret was getting used to home again.  
  
    “Well, Evgenija’s still with her tutor at the moment,” Domino considered ways to sneak them in.  “And given this is the first time your friend’s come over, might as well make a good first impression.  Hmm.”  
  
    “So this Evy girl’s a prude or something?”  The dog looked from Domino to Hyden, the former nodding affirmatively, while the latter looking scandalized at the thought.  “What?  She sounds like a prude.”  
  
    “Prude is a word that describes Evgenija.” Domino’s tone was neutral, ignoring the bit of mirth he felt at imagining her reaction to the brazen young man calling her such.  “Hyden, you and your friend go explore until dinner, alright?  Rinse your clothes in the pond when you’re coming back.”  
  
    “Mr. Demo seemed scared of something in the pond, though,” Hyden said, arching a brow.  “Should we go by there if there’s something inside?”  
  
    “Hmm, you’re right.  Killing a snapping turtle or a crocodile that somehow got into the water several miles away from the lake is far too much for two young Demons who have enhanced strength and diamond hard skin- oh wait.”  The ferret stuck his tongue out at the boys.  “If it bites you, hit it hard, if it bites again, hit it until it learns better.  Have fun.”  
  
    The two Demons trotted off into the forest after Domino took their bookbags in with him to make dinner.  Evgenija was still in the living room with her tutor, learning some basic things such as the mindshield spell, how to hide her headwings, and how to direct her tentacles.  The Une’jysune incubus was seemingly avoiding bringing up the Academy, which was great.  
  
    The less Domino had to worry about it, the better.  
  
    Tending to the food for the evening meal; Domino wandered in his thoughts.  All through the day, he’d been thinking about the situation he and his new household found itself in.  Marlyn’s offer, still fresh and still sore from outrage haunted him.  Almost as surely as Urd’s ghost haunted him in the corner of his vision.  
  
    But to become an Adventurer would require months of training, Domino’s combat ability was lax even when the Harridan had been in one piece.  As the captain, it was expected of him to be a tactician, not an active combatant.  And then even limiting himself to the Big Island, he’d possibly be gone for weeks on end.  Hyden was only going to be a kid for a short time, and if what half of Isarra had reported was accurate, he needed every second to be mentally healthy.  
  
    But Adventuring would bring in money, direly needed even in Ti’baltr, where money was not the end goal of all things.  Doubly so if he and Evgenija pooled their resources, but that was unlikely.  The girl was likely going to put her money into a savings account, add to it over the eighteen months where she was shackled to Domino, go to the Academy for a century or two, and return without any need to work from the accrued interest.  
  
    Perhaps if he took his  sort-of-maybe-sometimes relationship with Swoon more seriously, she’d move into the house, and help with Hyden while Domino and Evgenija were away?  The cat Angel wanted children eventually, perhaps she could be the loving mother Domino couldn’t be for the boy.  
  
    The ferret never noticed when the Une’jysune incubus left, or Evgenija came into the kitchen to help prepare food until someone knocked on the sliding door.  Domino hopped off his stool and went to answer, finding a hulking Mythos standing irate on the other side.  Covered in scales, with obvious gills at the neckline, fins protruding from his elbows and head in mimicry of hair, shiny black eyes with a small mouth on the head, and a larger one on the chest.  It was covered in bruises and scratches.  
  
    “Can I help you… sir?”  The ferret asked, polite but a bit worried.  
  
     _”Do these,”_ it said in a warbled voice of annoyance from the chest mouth, _”belong to you?”_  It held up it’s long arms to reveal Hyden and Tryrone held by their scruffs in webbed fingers, dressed in their underpants with their clothes in their arms.  
  
    “I take it you’re the one in the pond, eh?”  The Mythos nodded, and dropped them unceremoniously on the wood porch.  “I can’t apologize enough for this, sir.  I’d be glad to cover any damages they caused.”  The mythos looked, Domino assumed, like it wanted to launch into a tirade, but a shadow passed over him.  A figure with feathered wings spread wide, from Domino’s perspective.  The Mythos froze for a moment, then grumbled.  
  
     _”Just… don’t let them wander off again.  Next time I may not be so nice.”_  That said, it started to waddle away into the forest again.  The two Demon boys came inside, Tyrone recovering quickly from the event, and obviously having no problems being ‘indecent’ in front of a woman, while Hyden was desperately trying to hide behind his own clothes.  
  
    “So.  I think you boys should go get dressed.  Tyrone, you staying for dinner?”  The dog shook his head no.  
  
    “Nah, it was fun exploring this part of the woods with Hyden, even if he’s a bit of a scaredy cat, but I gotta head home.  Was nice meeting you guys!”  Without so much as stopping to get dressed, the dog Demon trotted off to grab his bookbag, and then ran out of the house again.  The three remaining stood awkwardly for a moment before the ram broke the silence.  
  
    “Are you mad?”  He asked, as if he already knew the answer.  
  
    “Did you have fun?”  Domino returned.  
  
    “Um.  Yes?”  
  
    “Then no, I’m not.”  The Demon boy looked genuinely surprised.  “I’m the one who told you to go ahead and go to that pond, it’s my fault.  Now go get dressed for dinner before Evgenija realizes you don’t have trousers on.”  Domino smiled as both the Demon and the Cubi remembered that detail, the latter shrieking about indecency, while the former bolted.  “Back to mashing potatoes for me.”


	10. Things Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Domino gets some things sorted out, and then time passes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the time of Hyden's POV, three years have passed.

**Chapter 10- Things change**  
  
    The negotiations with the Mer were completed.  At not unreasonable rates, the lives of the Harridan’s lost crew were exchanged for goods and future services.  Domino was there, to watch what had been his men and women come home to their families.  And to bear the hateful glares of those who would not have their loved ones come back.  
  
    Which then meant that the funeral could go ahead.  
  
    Demo took over as Evgenija’s chaperone for a day, while Domino attended.  Dressed in black silk, wearing his captain’s hat for the first time since waking in the hospital.  No rings.  No scented oil in his fur.  Just his choker.  
  
    There was no religious service for those who died serving the Ti’baltr Trading Company.  Separation of church and industry, and all that.  But the families of the crewmen each got time to stand, and speak about those they had lost.  Sons.  Daughters.  Siblings, and more.  Poor Sebastian had no one to speak for him.  Urd’s parents elected not to speak; and what would they have said?  
  
    Urd had gone to the Academy upon manifesting her power as a succubus.  They knew her as a baby, a girl, and a young adult.  Two hundred years in the Academy had let Urd become the woman Domino knew; and that woman was a stranger to her family.  But they mourned all the same the daughter they never got to know as a woman.  
  
    And when all the family had said what piece they wished to say, Domino took the podium.  He looked at the caskets.  Sandalwood, the substance which had built the city and it’s empire was their composition.  Nothing but the best for those who died serving king and country.  He looked at the family, some hating him, some numb, some exasperated with the affair.  And then Domino spoke.  
  
    “The Harridan was not a nice ship.  Twice before I became her captain she floated into the harbor with all hands butchered on the deck.  Jinxed, the Company declared.  The threat of assignment to her kept many sailors in line over the years.  But I said to the Company, ‘the captains you gave that ship were fools.  Let me have her, and I will give you a fine vessel.’  They did.  
  
    “But none of the crew were assigned to my command.  I went through the ranks, and I asked people to come with me.  Friends, enemies, more than one complete stranger.  Most turned me down, but enough said yes that we were approved.  They had no reason to come onto a cursed ship, serve under a captain not even thirty yet.  
  
    “But they did.  I wish I could say I knew why.  Some whimsy perhaps?  Bravery?  Stupidity?”  Again he looked at the caskets.  He remembered the smiling faces he’d never see again.  The people under his protection that he’d failed.  “No.  None of my people were stupid.  The Harridan wouldn’t take them if they were.  
    “We were given suicide missions.  Tasks where it was not expected of us to return alive.  But we did.  Every time it came to us, we returned alive.  Success or failure, it mattered not.  We did what no other crew with that cursed ship did; we came home alive.  Until we didn’t.”  
  
    Domino noticed Urd’s coffin.  Near the middle of the group of thirty.  He longed for her to open it up, declare the entire affair to have been a cruel joke at his expense.  But the casket remained still.  
  
    “These men and women are dead.  Some were my friends.  Hate me for their loss, if you wish.  I do.”  He stepped down, then.  The caskets were moved to their graves, where they would be given the rare honor of decomposing without being used to feed plants of some sort.  Thirty graves, thirty gravestones, all centered around the figurehead of the Harridan.  Reclaimed from the Mer, the angry effigy stood now as a gargoyle, warding evil spirits away from those who had died serving her.  
  


* * *

  
    “Mon petit,” Swoon cooed, stroking the ferret’s hair lightly.  “You know I worry when you come to me and ask to go out, while dressed like you came from a funeral.”  
  
    “Probably because I came from a funeral, ma belle.”  Domino was laid out, his head in Swoon’s lap, his hat off to the side in the grass.  Ti’baltr didn’t have many parks, but the golf course reserved for the foreign dignitaries worked just as well.  Swoon didn’t mind, aside from putting up a barrier to block rogue golfballs.  
  
    “I see.  And you needed comforting for your loss?”  Domino looked up at the Angel.  Swoon was likely hundreds of years old, she had lost people before, but death didn’t mean the same things to Angels and Demons the way it did Beings.  She was trying to be considerate without having any empathy for his situation.  
  
    “Perhaps.  Perhaps I wanted to use the free time away from my new shadow to spend time with you, ma belle.”  He smiled at her, and she returned it.  “It has been a long time since we had time together, no?”  
  
    “For different definitions of ‘together’,” the cat said, coy.  “To me, it as the blink of an eye mon petit.”  Swoon booped the ferret on the nose, chuckling a bit.  
  
    “So lovely to see you longed for me as I did you, Swoon.”  Domino rubbed his nose.  “And stop doing that, your fur glitter gets in my nose.”  Swoon frowned sharply, displeased that her gesture of affection was rebufffed.  
  
    “Domino Ti’balt.  Two years ago, I asked you to give me your heart.”  The cat’s tone was miffed, and she rested her hand over the ferret’s chest.  Domino tried not to notice the way her fingers curled, or her claws extended.  Like she was about to physically yank out his heart.  “And you said ‘no, I cannot give it to you, for it belongs to my ship.’  You come to me now, you say sweet words like that time not long ago, but also these small cruelties.  Which is it, mon petit?”  
  
    Apparently the time had come to tell Swoon.  “My ship is sunk,” Domino said bluntly.  “My crew is scattered or dead.  My heart is mine again, and if you would take it…?”  The claws retracted.  The fingers relaxed to rest easily on the ferret’s chest.  
  
    “You grieve,” the miffed tone of earlier had become smooth and consoling.  “You ask for me to take your heart; not because you love me but to release you from your pain?”  Domino narrowed his eyes sharply, not pleased that the larger portion of his motives was revealed.  
  
    “You know I love you.  Or you would not even entertain me in this.”  The hand on his chest moved to scratch under his chin, the touch bearing the hint of claws extending again.  Still, it felt nice.  
  
    “I know.  But for me to take your heart, you must love me for ever and always.”  Her smile turned sad.  “And you don’t.”  
  
    “Give me time, ma belle.  Give me time to remember what it was like those years ago.  My heart will be yours.”  He hadn’t seriously considered the chance of her turning him down.  She had been so in love with him two years ago, and she seemed to remember it so well, he had thought her desire to go back to that would….  But it hadn’t.  
  
    “Time you ask, and time I grant.  I have nothing but time, mon petit.”  A light of mischief filled the cat’s pink eyes as a golfball pinged off her barrier.  “You can start by reminding me of our first meeting, if you wish?”  Domino sat up, determined, and retrieved his hat.  He adjusted the feather to make sure it wasn’t bent, and put it on, twisting to ensure it wouldn’t go flying off in the wind.   
  
    She’d liked that he had left the hat on, that night.  
  
    “Hey, have you guys seen a ball around here- _oh my god!_ ”  And there was the audience.  Just like last time.  
  


* * *

  
    The seasons changed.  The world went on spinning.  People lived their lives, happy and sad.  Mostly sad.  And miserable.  And dark.  
  
    Hyden found he was really bad at Gothic poetry.  Which would make the time his ‘social groups’ class focused on the Goth subculture all the more annoying.  Three years had done the ram good; his growth spurts had given him a respectable height, three years of dealing with Tyrone had given him some definition in his muscles, and he was now old enough to wear a Creature-Being amulet.  A gazelle skull of carved onyx clipped to his belt over his left hip.  His wings being forced inward let him delve into a new world of fashion.  Mostly stuff Evgenija wouldn’t approve of; such as sleeveless vests and no shirt.  
  
    The exposed fur on his arms and chest helped the ram deal with the heat, even with regular shearing a sheep was just not meant for tropical climes.  More than one of his fellow Demons had tried to take advantage of that by hurling a fireball at him.  It didn’t end well for them.  
  
    Which was the reason he was currently serving an in-school suspension, sitting in a cubicle doing homework without the context of a lesson to help with the material.  Several cubicles away was another Demon teen, Vodys Landgrab, his Dalmatian fur marred with a fading scorch mark covering his shoulder and entire right arm.  
  
    Hyden had long ago resigned himself to the fact that because he was from the subarctic, everyone expected him to know nothing of fire magic.  Fire magic taught to ever magical child in Vecenstein because in a region of freezing cold, warmth from so much as a matchstick spell could save lives.  
  
    What was vexing about it was that Nanbi, one of the three founders of Ti’baltr, had been an _ice_ mage, so they ought to have recognized the inversion of climate and magic focus.  But they never did.  And so they got their fireballs reflected back at them.  And set half the library on fire, but that was more accidental damage on their part.  Fortunately the books were fireproof, the shelves not so much.  
  
    Hyden was halfway through his economics homework when the bell for the end of the school day rang.  Packing up in no time because he kept his books and papers organized; he was already leaving by the time Vodys finished standing up.  
  
    The secondary school was farther away from home than the primary school had been; so far that many of the winged students elected to fly home in great flocks of bat-winged figures.  Part of the reason Hyden didn’t was his wings never developed beyond where they had been three years ago.  Still too thin and weak to fly, and with his new weight, barely able to glide.  
  
    What was more concerning was that his horns still hadn’t even started growing.  More than one specialist doctor had been asked about it, with no answer in sight.  
  
    It didn’t affect his day to day living however, aside from a bit of minor teasing from Tyrone.  
  
    “Riii-cola!”  Speaking of whom.  Hyden, on his way out of  the school building, stopped walking and immediately took a step back.  Seconds later, a red dog Demon crashed into the dirt butt-first, gouging a small trough as momentum carried them forward.  Had Hyden continued walking, the dog would have hit him with that dive tackle from the second floor balcony.  
  
    “You forgot to add the feather fall spell, Tyrone,” Hyden said, smiling as the red dog rolled about, bemoaning his poor tuckus’ impact.  “The battle cry didn’t help either.”  
  
    “But it wasn’t my battle cry,” the beefy dog Demon whined piteously.  Hyden’s smile faded seconds before a weighty figure struck him from above and behind, driving the ram into the grass and dirt, gouging a small trough with his face.  
  
    “Woo,” declared Renet, throwing her arms victoriously as the ram coughed up grass.  “Stuck the landing, I win!”  The years had been great to the cow as well.  A rigorous physical routine had given her muscles to match her natural heftiness, her hair pulled back in a thin braid, and her usual tomboyish clothes consisting of denim pants, a red shirt and denim jacket.  She really liked denim.  
  
    “What,” the ram coughed, “insane game are you two playing now?”  He tried to wriggle out from under the cow, but she was too weighty, and he too wedged into the dir.  “Augh, my spine.”  
  
    “A contest to see who’d get to lecture you on starting a fire in school.”  Renet was far too cheery, as she stood up off Hyden, before grabbing him by his shoulders and yanking him out of the ground.  “I won, so I get to do it, yay!”  
  
    Her cheer turned into monstrous rage as she shook the ram about, shouting about the dangers of reflecting spells on people less skilled than himself, of retaliating at all in a school environment when he was an adult and expected to act like it, and damaging his academic record with such stunts.  
  
    “Psst,” Tyrone hissed from the ground.  When Hyden turned to look at him, the dog gave him double thumbs-up and an excited grin.  “Was awesome to watch.”  Hyden smiled back.  Demons knew how to appreciate awesome displays of power, at least.  
  
    “-and…. Are you even listening to me?!”  The cow cuffed Hyden in the back of his head.  “If you keep acting like this, they’ll kick you out of school, you know.”  
  
    “I can’t just let them get away with picking a fight,” Hyden said imploringly, turning on his ‘doe eyes’.  “I’d get eaten alive… metaphorically.”  
  
    “I’m okay with that.  But not with escalating it to _setting half the library on fire!_ ”  She cuffed him again to punctuate the statement.  “You’re lucky the school’s insurance is covering it, or they’d be making you pay the difference too.”  The cow set the ever so slightly shorter Demon on his feet, still glowering.  
  
    “She’s just mad because you burned up her essay on Arazi Taun, and the teacher didn’t buy her excuse,” Tyrone chided, sticking his tongue out at the cow.  She turned her glower on maximum at the dog, but he just kept cheekily smiling.  
  
    “That… is totaly unrelated.”  Her poker face was awful.  “Was a really good essay, too.  I got some good sources.”  The dog hopped up to his feet, as if he hadn’t been in near-agonizing pain seconds ago.  “I have to do it all over again, now.  And by the end of the week!”  
  
    “I’m sorry about your essay,” Hyden said honestly, pulling grass out of his chest fur.  “But Vodys’ fireball would have burned it up even if I didn’t reflect it at him.”  The cow nodded, glumly.  
  
    “Such sad faces.”  Tyrone moved to grab the cow and ram in a double headlock, and bring their faces to his.  “But I know something to turn those frowns upside down.”  He sing-songed the words, making Hyden assume his mother had sent him some of her special home cooking.  “My mom sent over the surplus from her crayfish boil, almost an entire boiler’s worth!”  That got the cow smiling; she always got excited for home cooking.  “And since Hyden’s parran is still off adventuring, he can stay the night with us, and we can help you get your essay done licketysplit!”  
  
    “But I need to let Swoon know I’m going, and your phone’s disconnected,” Hyden objected.  He didn’t want to miss out on crayfish, especially not an entire boiler of crayfish.  But he also didn’t want an angry Angel breaking down his friend’s door in the middle of the night assuming someone had kidnapped him.  Again.  
  
    “What happened to your mana phone?”  The dog arched a brow, but his look turned understanding after Hyden retrieved the piece of charred metal that had been his phone.  “Whoa, that thing looks like a piece of charcoal.  The fireball did that?”  
  
    “The principal did that after he saw the fire.”  Renet, sighing at the situation handed over her cow-patterned phone to the ram to use.  “Oh, thanks.  ...Are these ducklings as your background?”  
  
    “What’s that?”  The cow politely queried, her tone cheery once again.  “Go up to the balcony and jump on you again?  Righto!”  
  
    Hours later, as the sun was beginning to set, the two Demons and one Being had gathered in the apartment shared by Renet and Tyrone to finish homework, and consume unhealthy amounts of crayfish.  In Ti’baltr, the age of adulthood was sixteen, and Tyrone’s family had been so large he’d been forced out almost right away.  Fortunately he and Renet had managed to pool their student grants and athletic scholarships to share an apartment.  
  
    Evgenija never approved of Hyden spending time in the apartment, saying ‘it was indecent that a young man and a young woman share a living space and be unmarried.’  Hyden didn’t care, and if Renet and Tyrone were romantically involved, he couldn’t tell.  They wanted to be his friends, and he wanted the same for them.  
  
    “Ugh,” the cow said, sitting on the living room floor on her stomach with a cushion under her chest as she scribbled at a notebook for her essay.  “Who was the tribal chief that challenged Arazi in twelve eighty-eight?  Chakoo?  Chakaa?”  
  
    “One sec, I’ll check.”  Hyden was seated on the loveseat under the window in the living room, with the backpacks of the three students piled next to him.  He set aside his own mathematics homework to rummage in Renet’s denim backpack for the history book.  Finding it, and flipping it open to a bookmarked page, the ram read off, “Shekua, and she lost badly.”  
  
    “Oh right, her.  Thanks Hyden.”  The ram put the book back, and returned to his math homework.  “Tyrone still in a food coma?”  Sure enough, the red dog was laid out in the kitchen, mouth agape and tongue lolling out, his expression frozen in the blissful belch he had given out before going unconscious.  
  
    “Yep.  We going to mark on his face or something?”  Gods danged word problems.  Hyden hated them, how they used Language to try and convey Math, so he put off that problem until later.  
  
    “After I finish this paragraph, I’m in the zone right now.”  
  


* * *

  
    Ninjas.  It had to be ninjas.  
  
    Standing in the rafters of a stone castle, the darkest corner with the best view, Evgenija watched the scene below.  Far, far below was the well lit, well populated, well enjoyed reception of a wedding that had occurred earlier that day.    
  
    In the ceiling above, where the servants would tend to the chandelier and keep the tiles perfectly shined, ninjas walked.  Their figures were blurred by magic; cheap knockoff versions of invisibility spells, but Evgenija knew they were ninjas.  
  
    The way they walked, the dark blue eastern-style clothes, steel plates protecting their foreheads, and ninjatos strapped to their backs.  They easily dodged the servants patrolling the walkways, making no sound as they travelled.  If Evgenija had not known to watch for them, she would perhaps have missed them.  Maybe.  Possibly.  This led her to think they were journeymen ninjas.  
  
    With the confirmation of ninja involvement, the only thing left to do was confirm who they were going after.  Spreading her wings, the vulture woman glided through the air like a specter of death, flitting between rafters, keeping up with the ninjas below her.  
  
    Would it be the bride?  The groom?  The priest?  The other members of her adventuring party, scattered among the attendees below, had a wager going on between them on who it was; Evgenija did not partake of such frivolity.  
  
    The ninjas stopped at a segment of the paths over the table the newlyweds were seated at.  And Evgenija, above them.  In her left hand a tomahawk, in her left a fistful of throwing knives.  Once she knew whom the target was, the ninjas would be destroyed.  And after that, their master.  
  
    The problem with using ninjas in Ti’baltr; they were exotic.  They were expensive.  Thus the list of people who could afford them was small, and while they wouldn’t give up secrets while alive, they left context clues on whom employed them.  
  
    One of the ninjas, a small figure, perhaps a hare, produced a reed tube and took aim at… the father of the groom.  Unexpected.  The little ninja never got the chance to fire his blowdart, as Evgenija swooped down, digging her tomahawk into his neck.  Before the blood could explode out, the figure vanished in a puff of smoke, leaving an empty uniform hanging over the railing.  The other two ninjas lept surprisingly far to the sides, soon joined by their companion.  
  
    To them, Evgenija expected she looked alarming.  In the three years she’d been among the madfolk of Ti’baltr her hair had grown to a long braid, her fashion had stabilized in a medium between the tight corseted Kebrian and the billowing Ti’baltic, and her skill with weapons regained.  
  
    Fanning her wings out, she took to the air, swooping down on the ninja’s position with another swing of her tomahawk, and again they scattered.  Steel glinted in the air, kunai knives flying to strike her flank but were deflected by her armored wing.  Cubi wings were remarkably tough.  
  
    Their battle was a dance of flips and thrown knives, of swords and axes clashing to produce sparks of light, and each time she came close to dealing a death blow, the ninjas escaped with their substitution technique.  Their blurring technique making it all the harder to hit them.  
  
    But Evgenija knew it was a matter of time until she won, due to an unfortunate weakness in the ninja’s attack plan they hadn’t considered….  
  
    A sharp crack filled the air, followed by a streak of red-purple light dancing through the ceiling passages, chasing after one of the three ninjas.  Each time it came close, the ninja would substitute, but the bullet curved to pursue their new location.  The process continued until after one too many substitutions, the ninja appeared again in their underpants; having used their own jumpsuit for the substitution.  And seconds later their neck was torn open by the glass sphere at the head of the beam.  
  
    Below, among the surprised crowd was the gunman; a dog in a tuxedo, blond haired, brown furred, tipping his tophat to Evgenija with a grin, a smoking flintlock rifle in his gloved hand.  Zoos Yelmo, and his enchanted never-miss rifle.  
  
    Evgenija pounced while the two remaining ninjas were surprised at the turn of events, swinging and stabbing with axe and knives, snapping at their noses with the toothy maws of her tentacles.  The clink of coins in the air, followed by the hiss of a lit fuse.  
  
    The vulture lept from the melee she had previously occupied in time to see a black sphere  with a lit fuse bounce off the rafters below, and down to the ninja she had been fighting; exploding in a ball of flames and concussive energy a moment later. The ninja, one of their arms torn off from the explosion, flew through the air trailing smoke, and down to the party below.  
  
    Where before the crowd had been merely shocked, they now fled the room, shouting for the police.  Moving against the tide was a brown furred and haired ferret in the garb of a priest, a patch covering his left eye, a cutlass in one hand, and a glittering white spell producing the sound of clinking coins in the other, moving toward the downed ninja.  
  
    The third ninja, the hare, looked from where his two companions laid, one bleeding out, one about be put out of their misery, then to Evgenija and her glittering weapons, and fled.  The vulture pursued the fleeing ninja, and as he was about to leap down to a window and freedom, he was intercepted.  
  
    A white swan, clothed in a lacy, flowing white bridal gown, using her wings to balance herself atop a metal broomstick while her veil fluttered in the air.  The ninja stopped completely stunned, while the swan Phoenix pulled a rose from her bouquet, and wove magic into it.  Seconds later, she was armed with a thorny whip, which she lashed at the assassin.  
  
    The rabbit jumped to avoid the attack, and moved right into Evgenija’s.  One of her tentacles rammed through his back, and out his chest, producing a gout of blood the fortunately did not land upon the swan’s dress, neither from the initial attack, or when Evgenija pulled the tentacle free to let the hare fall limply onto a table below.  
  
    Moments later, the three corpses were gathered together, a tablecloth thrown over the indecent one, while the four combatants stood around them.  The groom, Zoos, the priest, Domino, and the bride, Aina Kynaston.  
  
    “It was the father of the groom,” she told them when they wouldn’t stop giving her expectant looks.  “None of you win.”  They each had their own way of dealing with the disappointment, Aina pouting, Zoos sulking, and Domino shrugging.  “The assassination attempt is foiled, and we can go deal with the conspirator momentarily, after you all change clothes.”  
  
    “But I like feeling fancy,” said Zoos, pulling on the ends of his bow-tie.  
  
    “Perhaps.  But the groom will likely want his clothes back so that they can have their wedding properly tomorrow.”  Aina sighed wistfully, turning her whip back into a rose and placing it back in the bouquet.  
  
    “Was nice while it lasted, at least,” said the Phoenix.  “I’ll be right back.”  She turned and marched away, toward the castle chapel, where the changing rooms were located.  Zoos hesitated, but left under Evgenija’s glare.  Domino followed after him, totally nonchalant about the battle.  
  
    Evgenija wasn’t.  While her fellows went to change, she examined the ninjas for anything amiss.  But something had been off with that fight; as if the ninjas had lost a considerable amount of skill when her allies entered the fray.  
  
    She found something; they each had a mark near their elbows.  Like the scars Evgenija had from being fed upon by vampires for years, but recent.  Still bandaged.  Each of the ninjas had recently had blood drawn from them.  Which explained nothing but raised questions.  Especially related to why the normal context clues that would confirm their employment by the island administrator with a grudge against a muckraker and his family were absent.  
  
    No scent of sandalwood from the forests.  No salt from recent sea travel.  No food, foreign or local in their teeth.  Their weapons had the signs of being conjured; but such magic was far too complex for one island administrator to have access to.  
  
    The situation felt wrong.  There was something more to this; she just needed to see it.  But it remained hidden.  Out of options available to her, the vulture sat down at a vacated table and nibbled at a roll while she waited for her party to return.  
  


* * *

  
    Far away, a blue and orange snow leopard leaned back in his armchair, watching the vulture through a looking glass.  On an end table to his immediate right rested three child-like dolls; of three figures dressed as ninjas.  Each twisted and turning black as the magic destroyed them to prevent evidence.  
  
    “She suspects something,” ventured a white-furred feline servant dressed as a maid, laying out a cup of steaming viscous blue liquid for her lord.  
  
    “Obviously,” responded Dosve, his tail twitching in mild irritation.  “Let her suspect.  She will find no connection to me.”  The gaudy snow leopard brushed aside the ashes of the poppets, and took the cup in his hand, sipping of the liquid.  “Mm, wonderful.  The reporter has been seen to?”  
  
    “Agents report that Mr. Sweet has unfortunately died of stroke from the stress of his near assassination.  A tragic event, given the efforts local adventurers spent trying to save his life.”  The snow leopard smiled, sipping again of his drink.  
  
    “Such a sad loss for the journalistic community.”  The lord swept his hand before the looking glass, and it’s image changed to an elderly dog, half of his face slack while the other was terrified.  The faint hint of a black-clad hand with particles of magic at the edge of the still image.  “Poor old Martin.  Shouldn’t have dug so deep.  Oh well.  Who is next on my list, Luna?”  
  
    The maid left his peripheral vision, went to his desk and returned while he was in the midst of another sip of the viscous blue liquid.  “Shiera Moltz, sir.”  Ah, Shiera.  An advocate for peaceful negotiation between Kebre and Kalpakstan, currently engaged in a vicious war along their border.  
  
    “She’s in occupied Port Kolma, yes?”  
  
    “Yes, sir.  We have an agent ready to do the job nearby.”  Dosve shook his mane of hair, and set aside his drink.  
  
    “Bring me the poppet, I want to do this personally.”  The maid nodded, and brought him a doll resembling a black cat in a sneakthief’s outfit.  As Dosve held the poppet in his hands, it’s button eyes glowed orange while the link was established.  In moments, his vision was not of the luxurious sitting room he physically occupied, but the sill and window of a woman’s bedroom.  He could see her feet under the blankets, turning as she tried to get comfortable.  
  
    Dosve cracked the cats knuckles for him while the Being’s mind rested as if in a sleep.  This was going to be fun.  In moments, the cat used Dosve’s knowledge of magic to phase through the glass, and approach the bed while drawing a knife.  
  
    The best part was, the cat Dosve was using to assassinate the voice of peace was Kebrian.  When the snow leopard abandoned him after the kill, it would only heighten tensions.  And most certainly, the cat would not be taken alive by Kalpakstanni military police.  
  
    Murder from the comfort of his own home; what a wonderful invention.


	11. Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This too, is adventuerer's work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains mentions of suicide attempts and serious depression. If you or a loved one is having these thoughts right now, please seek help. http://ibpf.org/resource/list-international-suicide-hotlines

**Chapter 11- Scars**  
  
    Polishing a sphere of bronze so that the patina didn’t obscure the runes was so far the only downside to Domino’s false eye that the ferret had found.  A mixture of salt, flour, and vinegar was formed into a paste and then scrubbed onto the eye with a small brush, after ward, Domino would put the eye to soak in olive oil overnight to ensure a shine, and lubrication of the prosthesis.  
  
    In the cabin allotted to Zoos and himself the ferret scrubbed at the bits of green forming on the bronze sphere, the paste on a small plate on the frame of the waterbunk while he worked.  Over the years, the large central rune of the eye had been surrounded by smaller runes that enabled other types of vision: heat, motion, aura, night, measuring tool, targeting.  He couldn’t run every rune as passively as the central rune, it required mental effort and a greater tax on his magical power to activate one alternate vision style.  
  
    Finding the eye to be totally clean, the ferret plopped the metal orb into the jar of olive oil and screwed on the top, before tossing the remnants of the paste into a wastebin and scrubbing the plat with a brief spell.  Zoos was occupying the shower at the time, and hated seeing the captain with his empty socket, so it was best to work when the boy wasn’t around.  
  
    “Captain,” called the dog after the sounds of running water subsided.  “Do you have your patch on yet?”  Sighing, the ferret pulled the brown leather patch from his coat on a hook and placed it over his empty eye.  
  
    “I have the glass ball in, it’s not like it’s empty,” Domino replied.  “But fine, yes, it’s on.”  Getting his towel and shampoo ready for his turn in the shower, the ferret kept his back to Zoos’ side of the room while the dog emerged and dressed for bed.  “Shame about the mark, though.”  
  
    “Yeah, dying of stroke can’t be fun.”  From the sounds, Zoos had finished dressing, so Domino turned to walk for the shower himself.  However a glance over to the dog stopped Domino in his tracks.  Expression of flat disbelief, Domino queried:  
  
    “Why are you dressed in one of the ninja outfits?”  Sure enough Zoos was laying on his water bunk wearing the loose outfits the ninjas had been wearing, sans the booted feet or the balaclava mask with the armored forehead.  
  
    “They fit, they’re comfy, and they left like thirty pairs of their pyjamas all over the place after the fight.”  The blonde dog stuck his tongue out at the ferret, who sighed.  “Also I’m sick of all the times we get ambushed at night, it’s when I’m either in a nightshirt of my skivvies.  I’d like to have an epic midnight showdown without the other guys snickering.”  
  
    Domino couldn’t deny it made it difficult to force a surrender when you had to try and keep out of the direct line of sight of the females.  Or the coy advances of the people trying to murder him.  Idly, Domino wondered if the females ever had to worry about that; they seemingly always had time to get dressed before joining the fight.  
  
    Or maybe it was a women thing.  
  
    “Did you-”  
  
    “Yes, I grabbed some off the rabbit guy,” Zoos rolled over behind the water bunk and pulled out a black mesh bag full of the smaller ninja outfits.  “The tail might be a bit loose for you but otherwise, a snug fit.”  
  
    “Alright.  We’ll try it out, and see if it helps with the ambushes thing.”  With that, Domino went off to the shower.  Danged thing was sized for tall-legged people, with no stool, so he had to do without the gooseneck shower-head. Was it so difficult to make the amenities size-adjustable?  Or include aides?  True, not everyone could get over the shame of using a booster seat at a restaurant; but the option should still have been there.  
  
    Done with his shower, the ferret returned to the cabin and clumsily went through the ninja outfit.  It felt unnatural, even if he hadn’t ever been an actual pirate.  The mesh went on under the outfit, which made him feel like he was going to one of those strange clubs Demo frequented.  The ones where they had women dancing in cages suspended over the dance floor.  
  
    Why have women dancing above the dance floor, rather than _on_ the dancefloor, Domino never understood.  Demo did, and that made the ferret wonder about his brother’s priorities.  
  
    “Okay, it fits.  Doesn’t feel quite right, but let’s see how it goes.”  Zoos made a grand sweep of his arm while relaxing on his water bunk.  
  
    “Captain, when have I led us into unsafe waters?”  Domino could recall at least seven times, but bit his tongue.  Zoos may have called him captain, but Domino wasn’t his boss anymore; Evgenija was.  
  
    She was the most experienced adventurer, she had the most level head in a fight, and she was suspicious.  More than once the vulture woman’s unwillingness to trust alleged victims or bystanders because they played their role too well, or through reading their emotions.  
  
    Domino took a small plastic bottle from his coat before heading to bed; pills to help him sleep.  An unforeseen side-effect of losing thirty friends, one’s vessel, and second in command shortly before being forced into being a parent was depression, and with it, insomnia.  
  
Swoon helped him with the depression part, when he wasn’t off adventuring.  But when he was; it was like there was a hole inside him that sucked meaning and hope down and out.  Another reason why Evgenija was the group’s leader and he was just a swordsman with spellcasting ability; she could hope for the best, he couldn’t.  
  
    With Swoon, he could remember what it felt like to be in love.  To be happy.  Remembering the good times was all he had anymore, that and a job that required being the shining hero to ride in and rescue people.  His acting skills had gotten better, at least.  
  
    Popping a pill, the ferret rolled into bed and waited for the drugs to force him to sleep.  Maybe he’d dream of something nice, maybe something frightening.  As long as it was better than the near constant numbness, it was okay.  
  
    As the chemicals started to force his body to slow down and sleep, Domino wondered if Zoos felt the same way, being able to remember in vivid detail the worst night of their lives.  
  


* * *

  
    Evgenija sat in the common room for the ship, seated in the only armchair provided for the passengers.  The crewmen patrolling the deck would pass by every so often, sure that the vulture plotted some mischief, when really she just wanted to read the memoirs of Salmac the Watchful, the governor of Kebre some three hundred years in the past.  He had much to say about the nature of Creatures, and their predatory habits.  
  
    Despite poor Salmac obviously suffering from paranoid personality disorder, his long years studying the nature of Demons and Angels alone provided good insight into dealing with them.  
  
     _’They are like animals made intelligent’_ , recorded Salmac. _’Wild beasts given minds of their own and power beyond measure.  In this, perhaps they are not so different from the mighty Dragons.  When dealing with them, you must make clear that you are mightier than they; but be too obvious about it, and they will call your bluff, gentle reader.  
  
    ‘Demons will forgo the manners and standards of decency of others as a means to show dominance.  If it is within your authority, punish such small rebellions harshly.  No second chances, or they will see you as lacking conviction.  But punish too harshly and you may find yourself fending off unwanted romantic advances.  
  
    ‘It is safe to assume that an Angel believes they are the most intelligent person in the room.  For all of their intelligence though, they lack lateral thinking abilities.  Additionally Angels can be lured with power that comes without; lore, magic, artefacts.  To discipline them, show what reward they would have earned, and be clear it is lost to them.  Such will cut deeper than any knife.’_  
  
    The vulture woman snapped the book closed when she sensed a figure approaching, and laid the tome in her lap, waiting.  The meeting was expected.  For one so full of cheer, Zoos Yelmo had a talent for moving quietly.  Not stealthily, but quietly; Evgenija could see the tiny details that would have alerted a more novice sneak to his presence.  Movement in the shadows on the ceiling, sneaks were trained to look up regularly because normal people didn’t, the smell of Yelmo’s dinner in the air, the subtle shift in air pressure she detected from her wings.  
  
    “He took his medicine?”  The Succubus asked the Being, not deigning to look at him beyond a passing glance.  She and Yelmo were not friends, but coworkers, if he were not required for Domino’s mental health, she’d have found another marksman.  
  
    The dog sat crosslegged on the floor beside the armchair.  “Yeah, didn’t even need to prompt him this time,” said the blonde dog, nonchalant about the topic.  “He’s asleep now, I waited until he entered deep sleep to come here.”  
  
    “Hmph.”  The Kebrian had made no progress with the ‘ma’am’ addition to the dog’s vocabulary, to her chagrin.  It should not have been so difficult to command respect from her team after years of working together.  “Until we are back in Ti’baltr, I want you to stay with him as much as possible; he is giving signs of approaching the suicidal phase of his depression.”  
  
    “What?  Domino wouldn’t kill himself,” Zoos flicked his hand dismissively.  “You’re over-reacting, Evy.”  The vulture ground her teeth at the use of that mangling of her name, but vented the rage by plotting some menial task to deploy Zoos to on the next job.  
  
    “According to my observations, Aina’s reports, and yours, he’s almost exclusively using that spell of his, Roulette, in combat situations.  By it’s very nature, the spell is unreliable.  You saw how that backfired when he tried to ride that White-River Mythos two weeks ago.”  The dog flinched.  It had been a bad fight, Domino’s Roulette had given him a bomb that he had forced down the Mythos’ jaw.  The little ferret earned more than a few scars from the biting, and the shrapnel.  
  
    “It saved us, didn’t it?”  
  
    “So would Aina’s spell, had Domino not charged ahead.  And if you had not encouraged him.”  A bit of acid in her voice made the dog’s ears droop.  “You know my orders.  Let me know if he tries anything, or tells you anything about it.”  The dog nodded, and stood to leave.  “Hold on a moment….”  Evgenija looked the dog up and down, her brow arching so high it was almost lost in her hair.  “Why are you dressed as a ninja?”  
  
    “Um.”  The dog poked his index fingers together awkwardly.  “I’m using them as pyjamas, so if we get ambushed at night again, I’m not indecent?”  Being and Succubus stared at each other, the former embarrassed slightly, the latter disbelieving.  Sighing in an almost unladylike manner, she turned back to staring at the far wall, and flicking her hand at the dog.  
  
    “Go.”  And he went.  Evgenija knew it would come for Domino soon.  She knew whom to go to for the pills to help him sleep.  She knew the signs to look for toward the condition worsening or getting better.  And despite Yelmo’s misgivings, she knew Domino was starting to grow tired of his continued existence.  And from there, it would be only a short time before he tried to kill himself.  
  
     _Aina’s face, expression horrified, holding her hands to the vulture woman’s neck.  Screaming for Swoon to call a healer.  Ignoring the knife in Evgenija’s hand, dripping with her own blood.  Domino rushing in with a towel to stop the bleeding._  
  
    Two and a half years prior, when she was weakest, Evgenija had tried to end it all and failed.  Aina, Swoon, and Domino had saved her.  The least she could do for Domino was try to stop the ferret from doing the same, and perhaps succeeding.  The vulture rubbed at her neck, where underneath a broad choker of black satin with onyx gems, was the scar she refused to have healed over.  Her cowardice tax, to remind her of what she almost did.  
  
    Pushing aside the bad memories, she opened the book again, and started her learning on how to deal with Weres.


	12. How I met your Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyrone introduces Hyden to his boyfriend at a laundromat.

**Chapter 12 - How I met your brother**  
  
  
     When Tyrone woke from his food-induced coma, it was to Hyden snoring on the couch and Renet still typing away at her essay.  She barely noticed him waking, only reacting when he passed her on the way to the bathroom.  The two of them had drawn on his face while he’d been out, which had to be scrubbed out - he’d fallen asleep first, it was tradition.  If either of them had fallen  asleep, they would have faced the same.  
  
  
     Scrubbing his face took only a short time, and he was back out in the apartment’s main room a moment later, sitting next to Renet on the living room floor, watching the clock.  “So… did you talk to him about your thing after I passed out?”  The dog asked the cow, not turning to acknowledge the tired death glare she leveled at him.  
  
     “No,” was her dry-throated response.  “I wanted to get this done first, but there was just so much to do…”  Tyrone patted her on the head consolingly, rubbing behind one of her ears, which made her bat his hand away.  “That doesn’t work on bovines.”  
  
     “It would if you were a normal person, but you’re a nerd, so of course it doesn’t.”  The time, which Tyrone had been paying attention to was slightly after midnight.  Almost time when he could head out.  “So, you’re going to wait till I go out to bring it up?”  
  
     She sighed, pushing aside her notebook.  “I… don’t know okay?  I’m tired so I’ll probably not put it the most delicate of ways.”  The dog rolled his eyes where she couldn’t see, but she punched his thigh instinctively anyway.  They had lived together long enough to read the signs.  “Of course you wouldn’t care how delicately I put things.”  
  
     “Personally I think doing it the honest way is best.  If you like him, tell him.  I mean he’s right there, and he’s so soft I could throw a pillow at him and wake him up if you like.”  Tryone yanked the pillow out from under Renet, causing her to roll away.  
  
     “Auugh, don’t you dare,” she growled while sitting up against the wall she had rolled into.  “And what about you, when are _you_ going to talk to him about that thing with your boyfriend?”  Tyrone took his eyes off the clock to stick his tongue out at Renet and pull on his eyelid.  
  
     “When it’s his business, which it isn’t yet.”  Tyrone hadn’t even shared with Hyden that the dog _had_ a romance going.  “And if things go well today, then I won’t even need to bring Hyden into it.  He’ll know when he’s old enough to look at the records.”  
  
     “You’re just going to _not_ tell him?  You know how he fawns over news from the Union, he’d be really upset if he found out on his own.”  They’d had the same conversation when they’d moved in together, and regularly since then.  The cow, she didn’t get it, not being a Demon.  
  
     Tyrone threw the pillow at her.  “What he feels isn’t important, it isn’t his _business_.  I brought up Hyden, and tried for two months to get them in the same room, it didn’t happen.  I’m not playing secretary for them anymore; if they meet up it’s up to them.”  The dog looked at the clock again and stood up.  “Speaking of meeting up, it’s getting to be that time.”  Renet huffed, defeated, and crawled back over to her notebook.  
  
     “If you’re heading out, I might as well go to sleep.  Get this done tomorrow….” She looked at the clock and her face darkened.  “Or rather, later today.  Going to need some coffee in the morning.”  
  
     “I’ll pick some up on my way back,” the dog Demon chirped happily as he dashed to his room and then to Renet’s, taking the mesh bags of dirty laundry and hefting them over his shoulders.  “Seeya in a few hours!”  Unable to use the front door with his hands full, Tyrone went to the sliding door to the balcony, exited out that way and dropped over the side of the railing.  
  
     As the Demon fell and after picking himself up off the ground ran off down the darkened street, he got lost in memories.  He remembered, two and a half years ago, when his elder sister had brought a guest to a family dinner.  She had agreed to become the chaperone of a Vecenstein refugee, and was eager to present him to the family.  
  
     The northerner was awkward in his own skin, not used to his sheared fur or the differences in fashion a tropical climate brought on.  Tyrone had immediately noticed a resemblance to Hyden in the northerner - a sheep-gazelle Demon.  But he was distracted by poking fun at the northerner for his self-conscious behavior along with his brothers.  
  
     Like Hyden, the northerner had been reluctant to cut loose, but unlike the ram, the hybrid had no problems scrapping when the teasing didn’t relent.  The northerner had been so good at scrapping, it took the adult brothers pitching in for the dog Demons to overwhelm him - ending the northerner buried under a pile of dogs.  
  
     The Backbreakers received their new addition well, enough that they offered him, a foreigner and not even a man yet, a job.  Tyrone’s father was bosun on a ferry between the city of Ti’baltr and Port Kolma, and under his chaperone’s watch the northerner worked loading and unloading the boat.  
  
     Honest work, but not overly stimulating, so the Vecenstein-boy came by the Backbreaker home to scrap, and spend time with them after school for he didn’t attend.  Tyrone had tried to arrange a meeting with Hyden, but at every turn, the two seemed to miss each other by minutes.  Eventually, the dog got the hint and let the two remain ignorant of each other until fate arranged their meeting herself.  
  
     And he did not mind having more of the sheep-gazelle’s time to himself.  
  
     More of which he was due to enjoy, as he arrived at the laundromat.  Thanks to the owner being a sleepless Mythos, it was open all night long, and allowed Tyrone to both be useful in doing chores, and catch his romantic partner as soon as he got off work.  
  
     Depositing the bags and exchanging gold dollars for washer tokens and soap vouchers, Tyrone got to work loading washing machines, dressing down to his underpants to throw his school clothes into the washing machines as well.  The owner did not mind, for she seemed to enjoy the view, and the dog like many Demons, was keen to show off.  
  
     The door to the ‘mat opened with a chime, in the middle of loading Renet’s clothes, making Tyrone’s floppy ears perk up.  “Hey doll, how ya doing tonigh-” the red dog turned to look, and saw Hyden standing in the doorway, looking at first mischievous, then red-faced at seeing the dog’s state of undress.  
  
     “I came here to embarrass you in front of your boyfriend like a good friend should,” the hornless ram said, covering his eyes as he walked in.  “Not to interrupt your booty call.”  
  
     Tyrone tilted his head to the side, confused, then went back to loading the washer.  
  
     “I wouldn’t be dressed if this was a booty call, and Ms. Baizin would have a camera.”  The ram turned even more red as he took a seat, while the Mythos woman in the far corner hissed in amusement.  
  
     “You’re not dressed _now_ , though.”  The dog huffed, exasperated with the ram’s refusal to understand how such things went in Ti’baltr.  Vecenstein must have been so extremely prudish that it would take generations to wash out.  
  
     “Whatever, look if you want to embarrass my boyfriend you can let me throw your clothes in with mine.  He’s one of your folk, so it’ll weird him out.”  Hyden glowered at Tyrone’s back, he could feel the sizzling of fire magic on his fur.  
  
     There was silence for a time while the dog worked and the ram looked everywhere but in his direction.  “So, uh,” Hyden started to break the quiet.  “I was awake while you and Renet were talking.”  
  
     The dog chuckled.  “She’s going to be so mad when she finds out, she’s usually good on noticing that sort of stuff.”  But then, he considered, maybe she did know.  But he had brought up sensitive subjects and she had to react.  He rubbed his forehead while twisting knobs to get the machines running; using his brain made things less fun, and he didn’t enjoy it much.  
  
     “Yeah, I’m going to talk to her about that… later.  But, hey, surprise, I didn’t know you,” the ram glanced at Tyrone who turned to look at him, then away, “were that way.”  
  
     The dog Demon’s brow arched, and he crossed his arms.  “I’m not ‘that way’, Hyden.  It’s just how things are done here.”  The ram got over his embarrassment enough to look at Tyrone, confused.  “If you see something you want, you take it.  That’s how Dominus won respect hundreds of years ago.  I like this northerner, so I will keep him so long as he lets me.”  
  
     The door opened again, cutting Hyden off from responding, and Tyrone grinned wide.  Coming in, still in a sailor’s uniform, and toting a burlap sack of laundry, was the sheep-gazelle.  His gaze was distant, like he was lost in thought.  Hyden was stunned at the sight of the newcomer, who dropped his sack near Tyrone while going to get coins.  
  
     Tyrone busied himself with loading up more washing machines with his beau’s clothes, checking every so often to find Hyden still stunned, watching the sheep-gazelle exchange money and come to the machines to get them running.  
  
     “Asir?”  The sheep-gazelle turned to look at Hyden for the first time, and he snapped to reality.  “You’re alive?”  
  
     “No,” ground out the larger Vecenstein Demon, approaching the smaller quickly.  “I’m a ghost come to haunt you.  Of course I’m alive!”  Hyden raised his arms, instinctively from Tyrone’s reading, as if to defend himself.  But instead of attacking, the taller, broader Asir enveloped the ram in a hug.  Hyden choked with the force of the hug, being lifted off his feet and spun around.  “And you’re alive too!  Alive and just as small as I remember!”  
  
     As he talked, weariness was worked out of Asir’s voice, the grinding tone of a laborer wore away to a happy voice.  Closing the last washing machine, Tyrone moved to join in the hug, grabbing Asir from behind and lifting him off his feet to be spun.  With his strength, it was easy even if Hyden was too busy flailing and choking to enjoy the moment.  
  
     When the double-hug was done, Hyden lay on his back on the floor, gasping for breath, while Tyrone and Asir sat nearby.  “So you two _do_ know each other,” the dog said, sticking his tongue out.  “Figured, but getting you two in the same room’s like answering one of those torichal questions.”  
  
     “Rhetorical,” the ram Demon corrected.  Tyrone charlie-horsed his leg in response.  “Ow!”  
  
     “Don’t you sass me.”  
  
     “It is good to see the Succubus didn’t eat you, cousin,” Asir cut in, poking the ram in the nose.  “But apparently she stole your horns and your teenage growth spurts, how shameful.”  The dog arched his brow again.  Cousins?  Looking at the two of them together, he’d have called them brothers.  
  
     “I _have_ grown, Asir,” the ram frowned.  “Not everyone gets to be a behemoth like you.”  Asir grinned wide, while Hyden’s expression turned confused, and he looked away.  “Uh… sorry about exploding you, back home.”  
  
     “Are you kidding?”  The sheep-gazelle cuffed the ram about the ears.  “It was awesome!  I got blown through the door and made a dent in the wall behind it, brother Seross went through both walls!”  
  
     “Is Seross here, too?”  Tyrone noticed a cold undertone enter Hyden’s voice mentioning the new name.  “What about the others?”  
  
     Asir shrugged, “I have no clue.  Mother put me on a boat a few months after you were kidnapped.  I had to sail from Ansaugerbucht, in the northern province.  The others were supposed to be on the next ship, as mine only had one space left.  But I’ve heard nothing from them.”  Distance crept into Asir’s eyes again, so Tyrone knocked it out by laying on his side and snapping at the sheep-gazelle’s tail.  “Stop that, feckless dog.”  
  
     Said dog grinned, sitting up with a few stray hairs clenched in his teeth.  “What about my mom?  Is she alright?  Is the baby healthy?”  Hyden continued to press, the cold gone and replaced with worry.  
  
     “It was stillborn.”  Asir said it as if it were unimportant, a footnote.  But both Hyden and Tyrone stiffened at the word.  “What?  It’s three years dead.”  In Ti’baltr, births were almost as celebrated as mardis gras, but only for the family.  And deaths, especially stillbirths, were the most weighty.  
  
     “I… it wasn’t me, the explosion, the stress, was it?”  Asir shrugged, nonchalant.  
  
     “Ask her, if she’s still around.  She took off after you with Auriga as soon as the doctor finished the announcement.”  It was the ram’s turn to begin looking distant, and his cousin reacted before the dog could.  “My turn now, how long have you been here?  Has your chaperone been keeping you so skinny?”  
  
     The ram pressed his fingertips together, awkwardly looking away.  “Um, I’ve been here for three years, and I don’t need a chaperone because I’m… a citizen?”  Asir suddenly loomed over the ram, demanding an explanation with his expression.  “Madam Zed… she had a citizenship application in the shop which she used on me.  A Ti’baltr ship picked us up and I’ve been living with the captain for the past three years.”  
  
     “I’ve worked with Ti’baltr sailors,” the sheep-gazelle moved Hyden’s arms around as if he were a doll.  “And living with one wouldn’t leave you so scrawny.”  
  
     “I just can’t pack on muscle as much as you can, alright?  And what about you, where are your horns and your wings?”  Asir’s forehead bore the flat, bony patches where his horns had once been, but were now ground away, while his wings were totally absent.  
  
     “Non-citizens don’t get to keep their horns or their wings until they’re affirmed.  Until I have enough of a reputation to own a house and keep a job of my own.”  Tyrone, struck by memory, slid up close to his beau, smiling wide.  
  
     “Speaking of which, how’d the hearing go?”  He asked, not at all trying to hide his excitement.  Asir didn’t smile, but his eyes brightened a bit.  
  
     “They’re doing some bloodwork, as there’s a possibility I might qualify for citizenship through family.  I had wondered if someone from grandmother’s family still lived, but you’ll do,” he said to the ram, ruffling the smaller Demon’s hair.  
  
     “Heey, if you become a citizen that means I can make an honest woman of you, Assy,” the dog cut in, throwing his arm over the sheep-gazelle’s shoulder.  
  
     “You’re not the marrying kind. I'm not a woman, and who says I’d ever marry you?”  
  
     “The fact you haven’t jumped away, screaming indecency from me being in arm’s reach of you while pantsless?”  He enjoyed the moment of silence as the two northerners processed the information then scrambled away only to be dragged back into a double-headlock by the dog. There would be no escape until the washing machines finished their cycles.


	13. Little Bell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cubi are creatures of emotion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally four short chapters that I've combined into one big chapter, so that's why the formatting's weird.

**Chapter 13 - Little Bell**  
  
  
     Many years of filing paperwork easily translated to filing reports in an adventurer’s guild, Domino had found early on.  Zoos was in a similar situation, though he often took on filing loot declaration forms for the group.  So Domino found himself once more sitting in the bar portion of the Ti’baltr guildhouse nursing a glass of rum while the others were still filing paperwork.  
  
     The bar had many similarities with the wharf taverns; rowdiness, the smell of alcohol and smoke in the air, wenches serving the food and repelling grabby customers with force.  The biggest differences were that there was no obvious segregation, and the board.  At the wharf, patrons would group with their crewmates to socialize - and it was almost exclusively the men in attendance.  But in the guild, there were male wenches, and entire female adventuring parties drinking away.  
  
     And the board had no equivalent in the taverns.  An entire wall full of wanted posters, news stories, ads, and pleas for help, pinned to five rotating wood pillars.  There was a room behind the pillars where paper-pushers would pin-up certain jobs from other guilds or sponsored by the guild itself. To accept the job, one needed only to tear it off the board.  
  
     That would likely be Domino’s job, he mused as he took another drink of rum - as Evgenija would have sooner shaved her eyeballs as set foot in the bar willingly. _A self-respecting woman would not enter such an establishment for any reason other than to burn it down,_ had been her words on the subject.  Which was just as well, for Creature adventurers weren’t well received in the bar.  
  
     “Room for one more, captain?”  Domino shrugged at the voice, and didn’t mind the sudden shade from a large figure blocking the overhead lights.  When he looked to see who had taken the stool next to his, the ferret saw an aging bovine woman in a white dress decorated with purple flowers, a beaded shawl, and an ancient wide-brimmed witch hat.  Domino felt he’d seen her before and squinted at her trying to remember.  “Don’t quite remember me, sisterson?  Last time we talked was when your brother was dedicated at the temple of the Mother.”  
  
     “You were the… priestess, yes?”  Domino took another sip of rum and attempted to recall details.  “You never said exactly how you were related to my mother, if I recall.”  The cow woman waved the bartender away, and he didn’t make a fuss - she could not have come into the guildhouse without being an adventurer, Domino realized.   
  
     “To an old Amazon, all women are her sisters.”  Which clarified that question; the cow was part of one of the local Amazon tribes - most of whom became adventurers so that they could leave their enclaves without violating ancient treaties.  
  
     The Amazons had not taken kindly to the spread of Ti’baltr in the old days, and many wars were fought between the then young city-state and the tribes.  Dominus Ti’balt’s son, Deimos had been particularly vicious in his extermination of the island’s natives.  The wars ended with a chain of treaties which promised that the two sides would not encroach on the other’s lands.  But while the Amazons had grown slowly and with the help of magic, Ti’baltr exploded in size and strength.  Soon the warrior-women found their chances of expanding all but gone.  
  
     “This tribal business, then?  Not a captain anymore - but I can tell you which cousin to talk to if that’s what you want.”  The rum ran out with his next draft, and the barkeep shook his head when Domino signaled for a refill.  Someone was bribing the man considerably to keep the ferret relatively sober, it seemed.  
  
     “No, sisterson.  I come to let you know a sisterdaughter of the tribe has… concerns she wants to bring to you without being rude.”  Domino realized he didn’t know the cow’s name halfway through giving her a confused look, and that he didn’t care while spinning the ice cubes in his empty glass petulantly.  “It… concerns your lady friend.”  
  
     “You’re going to have to be specific.”  He had to repeat himself when she responded with ‘the winged one’.  “I know many winged women - I work with some of them, on both sides of the sword.  I know so many, some people think I have a thing for ‘em.”  The cow didn’t react to his attempt at humor, which added an extra layer of awkward to the situation, prompting him to look away.  
  
     “There are concerns that the Creature you’re involved with, the brightly colored one; an Angel I think, that she has killed people in the past.”  The Matriarch’s gaze was stern.  “No solid evidence yet, I’m told timelines matching was involved, bank records matching, that sort of thing.”  
  
     His claws were out, and the urge to dig grooves into the bar was strong, but he settled for rapping them on the wooden surface instead.  “Swoon,” Domino ground out gripping the glass tight in his other hand, “hasn’t killed anyone as long as I’ve known her.”  He couldn’t imagine Swoon killing anyone, but he’d only known her for a couple decades.  She was hundreds of years old; what were the odds that he knew her well enough to say one way or the other?  What were the odds that she wasn’t just using him as a scapegoat, or as another victim?  
  
     Anger at the accusation became misery and despair as he kept thinking.  “She is a Creature, sisterson.”  The elderly cow’s tone was gentle, but not consoling.  “It isn’t impossible for her to have done these things in her youth, and moved on.  There is nothing to motivate the guild to move against her yet; but my sisterdaughter wanted you to know she was looking into the subject.”  
  
     Not for the first time, Domino wondered if anything between Swoon and him was genuine; or if he was just lying to himself, pathetically desperate for company that he let himself be played.  Nodding to the cow, he turned, slid off the stool, and ambled out of the bar.  Whether the rum, the words of the matriarch, or his instincts were the source he had a seed of doubt about Swoon, and she deserved him fixing it.  
  
     He hired a gryphon cart to take him from the guildhouse to the house his father had given him in the woods all those years ago; where the family had lived before Decimal, their grandfather. had been elected to the bronze throne.  The house had good memories - but also the memory of how the metaphoric chain felt when Decimal yanked them back to the big city.  Stupid old bastard wanted his children where he could see them; and his grandchildren too.  
  
     And with Swoon, Hyden, and Evgenija, the good memories were rapidly outnumbering the bad.  But if that was to continue, the doubt the ferret had in his heart needed to be purged again.  
  
     Soon, he was walking up the covered path from the road to the house, stumbling only slightly from the rum.  As the leaf-covered wire gave way to the enormous open yard he’d become familiar with again, he heard something coming out of the windows he hadn’t expected: Singing.  
  
      _”Bye bye, baby.”_   It was Swoon’s voice, but Domino remembered her abhorring singing.  He plied his ferret skills of sneaking while approaching the house, not to spook her.  _”Remember you’re my baby wen.... they give you the eye.”_   The captain spun his false eye to look through the walls with the appropriate rune.  Swoon was alone in the house, and her aura matched what he’d seen last time he saw her.  But it seemed… bigger?  Could auras grow in size, he wondered.  _”Although I know that you care, won’t you write and declare,”_ Domino knew exactly how to open the kitchen door without making a sound, and from there snuck in.  _”That though on the loose, you are still on the square.”_  
  
     It was Swoon alright, he discovered, dressed in a strapless pink and white polka-dotted sundress, with a white apron over her front; arranging food on a pair of plates, food from several white containers with a black logo Domino knew belonged to a catering service.  The Angel found cooking beneath her, he remembered, and thus it fell to Hyden to prepare meals while Evgenija and Domino were away.  _”I’ll be gloomy, but send that rainbow to me, then,”_ she continued to sing while fussing over the food on the plates, poking at them with tiny forks until they were in proper alignment.  _”My shadows will fly!”_  
  
     Domino watched her work so much over a meal for two - had she known he was coming back that day?  Had he caught her before meeting a new boytoy - was it Hyden?!  Doubt and rage mixed, causing his fur to bristle as he watched, preparing to start shouting.  
  
     But then she saw him, and seeing the way she smiled big, her eyes lit up, and her wings perked up; it was like someone punctured a balloon inside the ferret.  All the rage he’d had before melted away.  “Mon petit!”  Abandoning the song and the food, the angel rushed the ferret, picking him up and gripping him close to her chest.  “You come back to me!  And without bleeding this time,” the squeeze eventually became a simple hug, which Domino could return partially.  
  
     “Ma belle,” the ferret said, hesitantly.  “I… need to apologize.”  She held him away from her slightly, confused.  “I… the adventurers in the guild, they allege you kill people.  And I almost believed them!  I came back so soon to talk about it.”  Confusion became a stern look from the siamese cat.  
  
     “This the third time you doubt me, petit.”  She set him on his feet again, crouching to look him in the eye.  “But is understandable.  Adventurers - they are like a Kebrian gang.  People who are not afraid of them are threats.  They accuse me?  This I accept.  What I do not accept,” she reached out to rub her hand under the ferret’s chin, “is them trying to take my petit from me with their words.”  
  
     “Ma belle, forgive me?”  The ferret looked plaintive at the cat Angel, fearful of losing her to her fickle ways for the third instance of doubt.  Her gaze was firm, narrow-eyed, and set him on edge.  “Please?”  She didn’t answer him at first, holding his gaze as if by witchcraft - he couldn’t look away if he wanted to.  
  
     “I forgive you petit,” Swoon sighed, pulled her hand away and went to the table again, resuming her work.  “Come, sit.”  It wasn’t hard to determine which seat was his - he needed only look for the booster cushion.  The meal began once Swoon was satisfied with the arrangement enough to remove her apron and pour the wine.  She made a show of pouring less for Domino, giving him a narrow-eyed glare while doing so.  
  
     Through the meal, Domino stole glances at the Angel, trying to see if she truly forgave him, or simply wanted to avoid a confrontation.  Swoon wasn’t one to talk while eating, so there was no point in trying to make small talk.  She hadn’t even insisted he remove his coat or hat.  
  
     However once the cat was done eating, she stood sharply and sashayed to the living room.  Domino hastily set his utensils down and followed after her - finding her seated on the loveseat, one of her wings arranged for him to sit next to her.  Once he did sit, the cat reached over and took his hat off for him, and plucked at the collar of his coat.  
  
     Once the weather-garb was off, she spoke again.  “I forgive you, petit, one one condition.”  The ferret hastily nodded, not minding when the Angel’s wing closed in on him to scoot him closer to her.  “You not go to the Adventures, not go to a new ship, not go to big city without me for one year, yes?”  
  
     “Yes,” he didn’t hesitate.  He couldn’t lose Swoon too - just being near her was making it easier to feel.  Easier to forget the painful memories.  He couldn’t go back to being alone.  “Anything.”  The cat looked down at him for a moment before smiling and turning to face him a bit more.  
  
     “My good mood is back, so I will give you the present I had, even though you doubted me.”  Domino tilted his head in confusion.  Instead of getting up, she took his hand in hers, and placed it over her abdomen.  
  
     They stayed like that while the wine and rum slowed down Domino’s thoughts.  He likely looked foolish slowly realizing what message the Angel was sending, before looking up at her, alarmed.  
  
     “Yes, petit.”  She leaned down to touch his forehead to hers.  “I will not enjoy the later months, or the being _fat_ ,” she spat the word like it was acid on her tongue, “but this… I will keep.  For you, petit.”  
  
     Realization hit him like a Demon punch.  “I… we… a baby.” It didn’t feel very noticeable in his hand - was it recent?  “How long- ?”  
  
     “After you last come back,” her claws came out for a moment around his wrist, “and stayed for only a day.  Two months now.”  
  
     “And-”  
  
     “Is a little girl, I went to a doctor just last week to confirm.”  Domino grinned wide at the thought, giggling faintly.  “And for one year - is just us.  You agree?”  The giggling rapidly went out of control for the poor ferret, and sudden lightheadedness made him lean over and faint dead away.  The cat sighed, picking the passed-out ferret up and carrying him away to their room.  “Oh petit, you’re not going to take the next surprise any better, I think.”  
  
     Unseen by the slumbering ferret, one of the cat’s primary feathers lengthened out into another hand to open the door and close it behind her.

\--

The Demons of Ti’Baltr had three basic rules, aside from their individual family regulations.  
  
 If you want something, take it.  
 If you hate something, destroy it.  
 Never be satisfied.  
  
Dosve admitted that there was merit in the creed, even before he had to work with Demons every day, nearly all day.  For understandable reasons, he couldn’t quite live by the second rule.  There was a time, about a thousand-odd years back when what he had hated was Ti’baltr, and the three legendary figures that had formed it.  But dragon attacks forced people to change their minds, bury grudges, and work with those that had previously been enemies.  
  
Dosve had gotten his revenge, and considered the matter closed.  Now, his revenge had come back home to change the landscape of his once hated rival state.  
  
Things had been going well for his office, the old generals of the marine corps and naval admirals had been receptive to his pitch, and the blue and orange snow leopard had every reason that they’d finally give him their approval at the next meeting.  The destabilization of Kebre and Kalpakstan progressed according to the CEO’s timetable.  Business was good and stood to get better for the Company.  
  
Then, to top it all off, his soon-to-be puppet demon had come to him for a job.  
  
On a friday afternoon, in the sprawling wooden castle that was the Tibalt private residence and TTC headquarters in one, on the fifth floor of the east wing, Dosve sat in his luxurious office, looking over the grounds.  Well, more like floated.  He couldn’t actually _sit_ in any of the chairs in the building, or walk on the floors really.  So he had to make use of magic and float an inch or two above every solid surface in the building.  
  
Fortunately, he’d long gotten past the need to eat physical food, or using the building’s facilities would be awkward as all heck.  
  
The incubus waited for his sole appointment for the day to show.  A fine layer of dust around his office showed how rarely he had to come in for such things.  It had been a bit awkward to find that his previous secretary had died of old age long ago, with his family collecting the man’s paycheck without complaint.  No skin off Dosve’s bones, it was Company money, and the Company had entirely _too much_ of it.  A replacement secretary had been a bit annoying to find on short notice, but there were always people in breach of contract who wanted a second chance at being functional members of society.  
  
So, after hours of watching gardeners garden, his new secretary buzzed in on the phone.  “Mr. Bloodstone is here to see you, Mr. Donya.”  The elderly woman had been an absolute treat - no one without knowledge of her file would ever guess she had been a pyramid schemer.  
  
“Send him in.”  Dosve’s cool response came after an appropriate delay to show dominance in the situation.  One of his headwings twitched and the dust coating the office ceased to exist.  Another twitched, and the scent of sandalwood - which had faded from the room centuries ago - perfumed the air.  
  
Moments later, the elaborate glass and sandalwood door to the office opened, and in stepped the young Mr. Bloodstone.  For such a small demon, the suit and tie look almost suited him.  Dosve barely looked in his direction as the hornless ram rose a hand in greeting, and gingerly moved forward to sit in one of the two guest chairs before Dosve’s desk.  After a minute of silence, the colorful cat turned his swivel chair around and floated into a standing position to reach across the table.  Hyden hastily stood and shook Dosve’s hand.  
  
The boy’s grip, from a Demon perspective, was absolutely pathetic.  “I must admit, I didn’t think you would come to my office for work when you’re not yet out of school.”  The two sat down again, crossing one leg over the other, and arranging his fingers into a steeple shape.  “Domino certainly can’t have approved of this.”  
  
“Well…,” the teenage demon struggled to meet and hold Dosve’s gaze.  _That_ he would have to fix.  “I’m told that the work in your department is… consistent.  And with the whole rest of my life ahead of me, consistency seems something I would want.”  
  
“Not many Demons take that view, when they apply.”  Dosve smiled a bit, both pleased with the boy’s thought pattern and how charmingly simple his goals were.  “They see ‘department of conflict’ and think I’ll send them off to war within the year.”  
  
“But there’s so much more to the department,” Hyden rushed to volunteer.  “There’s guarding the mercantile fleet, reprisal against pirates, and the manufacture and sale of weapons.”  
  
“I’m glad that the school I talked Domino into sending you to has paid off.  You’re well educated on this matter.”  The smile faded from Dosve’s face quickly.  “But if this is about the Ister market, I’m afraid I cannot send a young man such as yourself into that hot mess.  If you do meet the requirements for our department, it’s far more likely we’ll be sending you to Kalpakstan or Kebre - to secure our merchants there.”  
  
Hyden nodded, but couldn’t hide how his wings visibly sagged in disappointment.  “I know.  But, the only way to get the experience to be able to go there is to get a job and get to work.  I’ve been in this country for so long, I’m ready and willing to go to work wherever you need me, Mr. Donya.”  The two Creatures sat in silence for a moment, before Dosve stood.  
  
“Take my hand, Hyden.”  Dosve once more extended his hand, which the ram stood and took.  Orange magic blazed around them like the sun, and when it cleared they were no longer in the lavish office, but a concrete bunker lit with recessed lights.  Hyden was confused for a second before Dosve closed his hand around Hyden’s and pulled him behind him down a series of hallways.  
  
Unpleasant noises reached the duo through the halls.  The cries of children and adults, pleas for mercy cut off with magical effects, anguished screams.  Dosve knew Hyden would be watching the corridors as he went, noting the doors with barred windows, but no visible means of opening them.  Eventually, they escaped the endless concrete grey of the corridors, and came out onto a metal catwalk above a gymnasium-sized room.  
  
Dosve released Hyden to stand impassively, and bade the boy to look down.  Below them, the demon saw men, women, children and elders all in orange jumpsuits milling around tables.  Some had trays of food with them, most didn’t.  Between them, hulking winged figures layered in plate armor patrolled, trodding on those who didn’t make way soon enough.  
  
“This too is the job of the department of conflict.  The men and women in this facility and others work in shifts of ten years.”  The incubus float-walked over to Hyden’s side, standing almost two heads taller than the ram.  “Ten years of never seeing the sun, never having a day off, never being able to truly _relax_.”  Dosve made Hyden turn to look at him.  “When you say things like, you’ll work wherever you’re needed, these sort of tasks _or worse_ suddenly become possible.  Never say such a thing to me, or to any department head ever again, do you understand?”  
  
The ram nodded, moving to hold his nose shut.  Dosve had forgotten how bad the smell could get, and created a sphere of purified air around them.  
  
“Good.  Now, I don’t think my department is a good fit for you.”  From the pocket of his suit, the blue and orange snow leopard produced a card.  “Take this to the department of joy, ask for Denise, and tell them I referred you.”  As Hyden was about to take the card, Dosve pulled it away to lean in and bare his teeth.  “And don’t you _ever_ do something that gets you put into a place like this, you understand me?”  Traces of genuine fear wormed their way around the demon’s mindshield, and he nodded.  The next time, Dosve did not snatch the card away when Hyden reached for it.  In another flare of orange light, the boy was gone.  
  
Slowly, with malevolent purpose, Dosve turned to look down at the mass of prisoners.  Most hadn’t bothered to look up, but out of the crowd he picked out two faces directly glaring at him.  Two female demons, heavily pregnant: Oresse and Auriga Bloodstone.  The elder Demon woman was on the verge of tears, but it had no effect on Dosve.  He taunted them by slowly waving goodbye before teleporting away himself.

 

\--

Evgenija found herself almost _happy_ to be smelling the sandalwood forest again as she made her way down the dirt road to Domino’s home.  Living in Ti’baltr the city in between adventures reminded her of Veldun, but where everyone was acting the fool.  They were Ti’baltic, so foolishness came naturally of course.  But deeper into the Big Island, where Domino lived, and where the small suburb that had been their proper home for years, it reminded her of Home.  The duplex where she and her mother had lived.  The warm and friendly neighbors who made sure no one went hungry, or without fuel for their heaters.  
  
It made sense that the Ti’baltic lord, Domino’s father had given the property to him - it was a homely place.  The times when it was just the three of them living out their lives in the wake of their respective tragedies - they seemed far away to Evgenija.  Ten, twenty years ago rather than three.  
  
When she got to the clearing, and advanced on the house she got yet another reminder of how short the time had been: There was Domino moving around the house like he had a purpose once more.  In the few minutes it took her to cross the lawn and approach the porch, she watched the little ferret man dance between a half-dozen odd jobs.  It was like he had purpose beyond needlessly risking his life again.  
  
“Morning ma chère,” the ferret man greeted far more enthusiastically than she had last heard.  He didn’t pause from quickly running across the floors with a polishing rag, getting them good and shined.  Evgenija found herself smiling just a bit at the scene, but had to act properly.  As she approached the porch stairs, she closed the dark parasol she had brought with her to hold in both hands in front of her, facing down - as Anevka had taught her.  
  
“Good morning, Domino.  You are in an excellent mood.”  Joy and sugary energy radiated off him, though the adventurer-level mind shield kept a lid on the emotional broadcast.  She hadn’t tasted _joy_ before, and found the taste peculiar.  Sort of… chalky?  Without asking improper questions as to the state of things she entered the home and found her way to the small, for a ‘longlegs’ like her, nook set aside for breakfast and tea by Domino and Swoon.  Even if Angels did not marry, at least Domino had gotten Swoon to move in shortly after Evgenija’d moved out.  A feminine presence was absolutely necessary.  
  
The kitchen had modernized since she’d left, with more technological or magical devices on the counters, a much larger sink, and several thin metal rods tipped in different colored gems - wands for certain household spells that Hyden had created.  The inventive young ram had tried to pawn off a set to Evgenija, but she politely rebuked him.  
  
She would not give in to the Ti’baltic nature of laziness.  Her work ethic was one of the few purely Kebrian traits she had left, and damn modern convenience if it impeached that.  
  
After evidently finishing his floor polishing, the ferret man made his way to the kitchen to prepare a pot of tea for the two of them.  However, something about the box from which Domino obtained the tea brick.  She squinted, before taking out her reading spectacles and watching it from afar.  Realization hit, and Evgenija recoiled at the information, before hastily making herself proper and putting the spectacles away.  
  
The box was one of Iea Fong’s teas - special brews… for pregnant women.  Minimal caffeine, lots of calcium, and enchantments to reduce morning sickness, promote healthy growth and regulate blood circulation.  Swoon had to be pregnant.  Or Hyden had gotten that cow girl who followed around after he and the dog Demon such.  Or both.  But speculation was not a suitable occupation for an adventurer… on her off hours.  Domino soon enough came over to the nook with the tea set, pouring the cups as was required of the homeowner.  
  
Coming over for tea was one of the few ways she could check in on him without appearing improper.  The last thing she needed was Swoon accusing Domino of infidelity.  More often than not, it went by silently - the two communicating by expressions alone.  But on that day, Domino’s joy seemed to be positively overflowing as Evgenija started to feel light and happy as well from the jammer effect.  
  
“I’m going to be a father.”  Evgenija privately ‘aha!’d’ to herself while sipping her tea.  Spitting it out in surprise was an unforgivable waste.  The small, scarred ferret had barely touched his own tea - with a lime slice floating therein.  
  
“Congratulations,”  she told him with the joy he was putting out only slightly coloring her sentiments.  With the root cause revealed, Domino started to gush about what was known about the baby thus far.  Swoon was two months along, roughly, and the doctors expected it to be a girl.  Domino was trying to convince Swoon to let him convert one of the guest room into the little girl’s room, but so far the Angel had been staunchly resisting it.  
  
“Ma chère, she wants our room to double as the bébé’s room as well.”  For the first time in the tea period, Domino actually drank some tea, not caring that it seemed to have gone cold.  “But a bébé requires _space_ , and with all Swoon’s things the room is so small now.”  
  
“She is as much the parent in this situation as you, the two of you must reach a consensus.  Though I do agree a separate space right from the start will do the girl good.”  The urge to make a disparaging remark about the destructive nature of ferrets struck Evgenija, but she resisted.  
  
“Oui, there’s that.  And….”  Domino looked away while sipping his tea.  “I’ll be taking some time off from the adventuring thing, a year or so, to help Swoon as she goes through with this, and to take care of ma bébé.”  The lammergeier tilted her head slightly, unsure of why the ferret had been so hesitant to say such a thing that he avoided her gaze.  
  
“I was going to insist on that, even if you did not.”  Domino turned to her, legitimately surprised, which prompted a deep sigh from Evgenija.  “My father abandoned my mother while she was pregnant.  Mother mentioned often how difficult it was to raise a child on her own while also working.”  The last of Evgenija’s tea was drunk before she fixed a stern look down to the ferret.  “You and Swoon love each other, and will surely love this child.  So I insist you be a better father to her than mine was to me.”  
  
Tharach had gone without contact from Evgenija since she found out about him.  Kish’Ta indicated she would arrange a meeting at the hidden academy of her species, which Evgenija had no intention of willingly visiting.  The Une’jysune tutor she had used for years was more than sufficient for her applications of ‘cubi powers.  
  
Domino responded to Evgenija’s stern look with more joy.  He had clearly expected a fight of some sort.  “I… we have not told Hyden yet.”  That got Evgenija’s surprise.  A quick scan of the minds in the area put the boy and his friends out in the jungle, chasing monkeys again.  “I told you because I needed to tell _someone_.  Swoon said she respected your discretion enough to share.”  
  
“I must remember to thank her, when this becomes public knowledge then.”  Domino poured her a second cup of tea, and she indulged in the Ti’baltic gluttony enough to try a lemon slice.  A peculiar flavor, but not unpleasant.  “Of course you know I will be shopping for something to present at the baby shower.”  However, that only earned a severely confused expression from the Ti’baltic man.  “The celebration where the mother is given a small party and gifts to care for the baby are given?  Around seven months in?”  
  
“Mais,” Domino shrugged.  “That is not the custom in this country.  Certainly, gifts are welcome, but the celebration is so much bigger.”  He stood on his seat to gesture widely.  “For small towns like this, such a thing is second only to Mardis Gras, and in the big city it is a party that people will spend weeks preparing for!  Is reason to call the whole extended family together, to forgive grudges, and get your children to beat up your relatives’ children.”  
  
“That is… certainly extravagant.”  Domino nodded emphatically while returning to his seat.  
  
“Children being born in Ti’baltr is rare now.  Is worst among Beings, and Angels I suppose.”  Domino sighed, with contentment rather than Evgenija’s exasperation.  “Never in all my time sailing did I think… a bébé!  A squirming little thing that will come to hate me when she grows up!”  Evgenija’s pocketwatch told her that teatime had passed, so she finished her cup and gracefully stood.  
  
“Thank you for telling me, Domino.”  In a moment of weakness, she bent down to hug the ferret as he hopped off his seat.  “This is the happiest I have ever seen you, and it’s such a good reason to be happy.  You are going to be a fantastic father.”  Hesitant at the display of physical affection, incredibly rare from Evgenija, Domino hugged her back.  And when the moment passed, she exited the home and popped open her parasol while she made her way to the road once more.  
  
“And if you ever make the choice in your many hundreds of years, ma chére,” she heard the ferret call to her as she left, “I think you will be a good mother.”  The lammergeier paused, turned slightly back to him, and nodded in appreciation before she resumed her walk.  It was a pleasant sentiment, but Evgenija could never see herself as loving a parent as she knew Domino and Swoon would be.  Evgenija was made of knives, and far too sharp for such work.  
  
But it was a good idea to waste time imagining on the long walk back to Ti’baltr.

\--

To celebrate Renet passing her assignment after working so hard, the three amigos went monkey-hunting.  After three years of trying, Tyrone and Renet had both managed to catch monkeys on more than one occasion, but Hyden couldn’t do it.  They all agreed to not use magic, and really magic was all Hyden had in terms of advantages.  
  
The ram’s wings were still too small to fly, so he had to hop between the branches of trees in pursuit of the primates.  Compensating for his target suddenly shifting direction had landed him in more than one tangle that he required assistance to escape.  “You know,” Tyrone said while pulling the smaller demon out of a tree trunk with no visible effort, “I’m starting to think it’s not just you being a wuss.  Me and Renet have been scrapping with you on the regular and you haven’t gotten _any_ stronger.”  
  
Renet sat on a branch, observing Tyrone physically tossing Hyden like a sportsball while she let her captured monkey escape.  “Iunno, it’s sort of cute.”  The dog Demon blew a raspberry at her.  “Hey, it’s not often that I get to be the second strongest.”  
  
Hyden found a bird’s nest in the tree Tyrone had thrown him into, and tossed that at the dog in turn.  It landed right between the dog demon’s horns, and soon thereafter Tyrone found himself attacked by the bird parents, causing him to slip and fall down to the forest floor.  
  
“Vengeance!”  Hyden fist pumped, and resumed the chase for his monkey.  After so long of being weak, he sort of expected it to continue.  Rather than wait for physical strength to blossom, he focused on magical aptitude and his hope to go into the TTC merchant business.  “And hey, since I don’t have horns, I can’t get birds or shirts stuck in them.”  Renet looked away, slightly embarrassed as Tyrone cried foul while still being attacked by birds.  
  
“So, how’d the job interview go?”  Renet waited until the monkey chase brought Hyden back to her seat to bring it up.  The ram, out of breath, gestured with a thumbs down.  “Oh, that sucks.  You could always try again in a year or so?”  
  
“It wasn’t that.  Mr. Donya didn’t think the department was a good fit for me, so he sent me over to the department of joy.”  Renet’s face positively lit up, however Tyrone made a disgusted noise as he casually lept the full distance between the duo’s branches and the forest floor.  
  
“Let me guess, they got you working in candy-making or something?”  Renet charlie-horsed Tyrone’s leg as he strutted along her branch.  “Ow!  Hey, I’m just saying if you had to work somewhere, why would you work with those sugar-lumps?”  
  
“Well, actually, yeah.” Hyden rolled over to look at the sky through the foliage above.  “I’ll be operating a stand at Mardis Gras this year, selling stuff from across the ocean.  Some of it is this really weird type of cake that looks like it’s made from water.”  While the Being oohed over the mental image, Tyrone scoffed.  “The department head gave me a bunch of the merchandise I’m going to sell because she wants me to be able to answer customer questions.  Stuff like, how to clean the rice cooker.  What about you two?”  Hyden rolled onto his side to address them.  “How’d your job interviews go?”  
  
The entire thing was part of the high school’s general education course.  If they kept their GPA above a certain threshold, they could file for an appeal to meet with major employers for small jobs that could become full time employment when they graduated.  
  
Tyrone puffed out his chest and spread his wings wide, clearly proud of himself.  “I’m going into the Navy, and my recruiter’s already got something lined up for me.  I hope it’s a ship of the line.”  The dog Demon did a little dance on the branches, excited at the idea.  
  
“I’m not going to be getting a job after I graduate.”  Renet sighed a bit and shrugged.  “Once my education is done, I’ll be going home to act as a teacher for younger members of my hometown, and help them make sense of how life is on the Big Island.”  That caused Hyden to droop a bit.  He still hadn’t talked to her about… feelings yet.  “Not many Amazons get to spend as much time as I have with city-folk.  Usually you have to become an adventurer to even see Ti’baltr proper.”  
  
“So after you graduate, you’ll head off to another island and we won’t see you again?”  Somehow, Hyden’s question seemed to suck the fun right out of his friends, who drooped as he had previously.  
  
“Well,” Renet fiddled with her fingers while avoiding the ram’s gaze.  “If either of you have daughters you want to dedicate to the Mother, you can come see me then.  Or if you marry into the Amazons, but you’d have to stick to either your wife’s house or a really small section of town.”  
  
“Or,” Tryone cut in kicking a tree trunk to send branches, other birds nests, and a monkey down from the top section.  He caught the monkey by the tail and easily killed it by smacking it into the trunk.  “You can become a Spartan, and fight with Amazons over ancient ruins from when they were in charge.”  Renet went absolutely red in the face, and charlie-horsed Tyrone again.  
  
“That’s really insensitive, you jerk!”  Hyden said nothing but gave her a look of clear confusion while Tyrone laughed his dog butt off.  She sighed and launched into exposition.  “The Spartans and my sect of Amazons were natives to the island before the Demons and Angels started fighting over this place.  The Amazons had a lot less territory than the Spartans at the time, but they lost that as the Creatures came in.  They lost their last big city back when Ti’baltr started expanding.”  The cow looked off in the distance, a pitying look in her face.  “They’d had nothing but a few camps for hundreds of years now.  About ten years ago, they tried to take back one of their city’s ruins, and… it didn’t go well.”  
  
“The Amazons and Marines wiped them out.”  Tyrone dodged out of the way of another charlie-horse, unhinged his jaw and swallowed his monkey kill whole.  “Ech, still so gamey.  Anyway!  A couple hundred Spartans went in, and tried to get their city back, the Amazons had been using it as a training ground and fought them off.  Then the Marines caught the Spartans in behind and pinched them from both sides.  No survivors!”  
  
“Which the elders were really angry about.  Those Spartans tried to surrender, but the Marines have a mandatory rule of ‘no quarter’ - and if the Amazons tried to protect them the Marines would wipe _us_ out too.  At least they didn’t go off into the jungle hunting their camps down, so maybe they’ll recover.”  
  
Hyden went back to the scene Dosve had showed him of the prison his department operated.  Would the families of those men who took up arms against Ti’baltr be made prisoners, guilty by association?  The rich country’s government, he started to see more and more, didn’t play nice with non-citizens.  However, something caught his attention.  Because he hadn’t moved in a long time, a monkey had dared come a bit too close.  If he timed it right, Hyden could leap and -  
  
The branch Hyden had been laying on creaked, spooking the monkey, so he had to act sooner than he’d wanted.  With his thin wings to give him extra lunge distance, Hyden propelled himself diagonally upward to catch the primate.  For a second, it looked like he’d make the catch, so he flicked out his claws.  
  
However he ended up soaring face-first into a thick branch that stopped his forward momentum.  The force of his impact drove his face into the branch - so that he hung there for a moment before gravity pulled him out and down to the forest floor.  “Good attempt!”  Tyrone called from on high.  “But next time plan out your route in advance!”  Hyden hit him with a summoned snowball, which sent the tropical dog sputtering and stumbling backwards until he fell down too, not far from Hyden.  “Foul!”  
  
“Well, if we’re coming down, I’ll jump too.  Look out below!”  Neither demon had the speed necessary to escape Renet jumping down, and using their bodies to soften her landing.  “Oh wow, I didn’t feel a thing, thanks guys!”  All she got in reply was indistinct pained sounds.

 

\--

At some point, Domino had fallen asleep.  It was the first time in a long time that he hadn’t needed his medicine to sleep - though he could not quite remember if he’d taken any.  The bottle wasn’t anywhere in view when he woke up, however.  The thing he _did_ notice was his choker being missing from his neck.  What followed was a panicked few minutes as he undid all the bedding, took the pillowcases off the pillows, and moved the mattress around to try and find it.  
  
“Ma petit.”  Domino stopped at Swoon’s voice, and emerged from a pile of sheets and blankets to look at her standing in the doorway.  Starlight filtered in through the ceiling light behind her, contrasting with her orange and pink colors, as well as her lavender house robe.  She looked… _sad_.  “Why is it you are so afraid of this shape?”  She went to the dresser, opened the topmost drawer, and produced the choker from therein.  Hastily, Domino lept for it, and rapidly put the enchanted item back on.  
  
The slit pupil vanished, his fur became one solid color, his teeth lost serration, and his belly was no longer covered in overlapping scales.  Swoon sighed, then moved to the bed, and patted for Domino to join her.  “What if this little girl comes into the world resembling you?  Will you love her not?”  Domino refrained from answering for a long time - but Swoon had nothing but time to wait for an answer it seemed.  
  
“I will love you until the moon goes from the sky,” he told her.  “I will love our girl until I am dust.  But that… thing is not me.”  He gestured to the solid brown fur, his one good eye, and his mundane colored fur and hair.  “ _This_ is me.  This is the me I wish i was - not… _that_.”  
  
“That shape does not seem awful to me.  I look at it and still see you, petit.”  She held his face in her hands.  “But I ask you again… if our girl comes out like you, would you love her?”  He thought he had answered the question, but clearly not to Swoon’s satisfaction.  
  
“I… yes.  I would love her even if she came out as a rock.”  Swoon actually laughed at that, released his face, and fell backward onto the mattress.  Domino stood up on the mattress to do the same, his short height making it the only way to be in the same distance inward as Swoon, and the extra oomph bouncing the two of them.  It seemed to him that Swoon was happy with him again, and he could be happy with that.  
  
“Years ago,” Swoon started while opening the skylight with magic.  “You and I were beneath the stars, I think it was on… Whormcheft Island?”  Domino nodded to her when she looked over for confirmation.  “Such lovely grapefruit they have there.  And I asked you to give me your heart - and we would be together always.”  The memory came back to Domino.  
  
With no means of income, he’d had to join the Company fleet for work, which meant he’d be away for months at a time.  It made the romance with Swoon all the greater, for passion would build for months while they exchanged letters. And when he came home, she would greet him at the docks.  Everyone with an eye for women on the Contiguous, Hatchet Job, and When Suddenly was envious of Domino when they saw Swoon.  But after so long, he got promotions.  And then a ship.  
  
“Even though I could not give you my heart then, I loved you.”  Swoon smiled up at the stars while Domino looked at her.  “Why are you bringing this up now?”  She looked at him, then rolled onto her side - and placed a hand on his chest.  
  
“You will fade… and die long before I or our girl grow a single grey hair.  I cannot abide this.”  There was emotion in Swoon’s voice - like she was on the verge of crying.  “I ask you again, Domino Ti’balt: give me your heart, and we will be together always.”  Three years ago, he had wanted this.  In a way, Swoon had given him what he wanted even though it hadn’t been as quick as he’d hoped for.  The sorrow that had consumed him as recently as a few days ago seemed decades past - but here was the offer he’d desperately wanted.  Though he had always thought it meant a proposal of pseudo-marriage?  The way Swoon was speaking, it seemed they were talking about different things.  
  
Domino rested his hand on hers, and met her gaze with determination he hadn’t felt since the days of the Harridan.  “I give you my heart, Swoon.”  She actually did start crying then, and he smiled to try and cheer her up.  The Angel got up onto her elbow, and Domino assumed it was some romantic gesture, and moved to do the same for whatever she had in mind when-  
  
**CRUNCH**.  
  
It felt like she had shoved him, at first.  Then his brain tried to process the pain, and it hurt so bad Domino cried out.  He looked down, and saw Swoon’s hand, previously resting on his chest now… _inside_ his chest.  He struggled to process the image when he felt her fingers move and grasp at something inside him - he didn’t know what but it was the worst pain he’d ever felt.  Then all at once, the pain stopped.  Perhaps it was shock, he couldn’t tell, but he clawed at the mattress and tried to worm his way out from under Swoon’s hand - but she had him pinned.  
  
Her face hadn’t changed from the joy she had expressed on his assent, evidently, to this.  Domino tried to speak, but in vain.  Fortunately for him, the whole situation was rendered moot by Swoon removing her hand forcefully from his chest - taking his heart with it.  
  
\--  
  
Evgenija woke with a start, to sirens blaring.  In an unreasonable state of undress, she hurried from bed to the window to see what the commotion was about.  In the distance, she could see the wooden castle of the Ti’balt family sinking into the ground, a household-wide bunker she’d heard.  However the sirens did not come from there - they came from the old fort that the adventurer’s guild occupied.  Spotlights from the perimeter walls shone upward onto the clouds, and flares were going up.  Each was a unique way of visually confirming an emergency - though only the flares she recognized, for the Veldun guild used that method.  Three red, to indicate an adventurerer slain, two yellow to indicate it happened close to the city, and one blinding white to mean soul destruction had occurred.  
  
Sleepiness forgotten, Evgenija hastened to her wardrobe to change.  As was required of an adventurer, she had multiple outfits prepared for such occurrences.  Her night stalking outfit, dark blue to blend in with the night, would suffice for her purposes.  When she got out to the street, she saw dozens of local adventurers either as prepared as her, or still getting dressed but all hastening to the guildhall.  
  
Guildmaster Arran stood at the top of the stairs, while a crowd gathered in the courtyard.  Torches were the main light, as the spotlights had to remain active to let more distant adventurers know of the peril.  “One of our brothers has been struck down!”  Arran was a war-scarred kangaroo, in brigandine armor with a double bearded poleaxe acting as a walking stick while he paced the landing.  His voice carried the length and breadth of the courtyard without assistance.  “Struck down in the worst way imaginable.  His soul destroyed, and made into food for some wretched Creature longing to live a little longer.”  Spears and swords were brandished by the adventurer-mob.  Evgenija held her head higher, but refused to participate in such displays of barbarism.  
  
She spied Zoos and Aina hastily making their way into the courtyard and moved through the crowd to stand with them.  As team leader, they would look to her for tasks and guidance.  “Hear you now the name of the fallen, that you bear it with you when a murderer pleads for mercy, when a rapist begs forgiveness!”  The one criticism of Arran that Evgenija would ever bring against him was the way he worked his adventurers into an angry mob in such times.  But when someone’s soul had been destroyed, could she really blame him?  
  
“Domino Ti’balt!  Our king’s son!”  
  
Everything went quiet for a moment, Evgenija lost the ability to differentiate colors while she parsed what had been said.  It was like the ground had fallen out from under her, like a stone had trapped her and she couldn’t breathe.  
  
It was like hearing her mother being murdered behind her all over again.  
  
She came back to reality when Zoos nudged her.  The crowd was staring, and Arran pointing at her.  “I understand not being able to understand,” the Guild Master told her as he walked down the stairs.  From around his mind shield, she glimpsed a few scenes of lost friends, and felt he truly understood.  “But you cannot allow that to keep you from _action!_.”  He moved through the crowd to stand before her.  Despite being imposing, he was actually a bit shorter than Evgenija.  “You know where Domino lived - lead us there, that we can investigate, and see justice done.”  
  
She still felt like she was floating over a great abyss, even as she, Zoos, and Aina led over two thousand adventurers down the roads, to the jungle, and then the paths toward Domino’s house.  Evgenija decided long, _long_ before they got the jungle that when they arrived, she would be the one to question Hyden.  
  
She couldn’t trust the mob not to kill the young demon out of principle, and Domino would never forgive her.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The investigation into Domino's death begins.

**Chapter 14: Questions**  
  
In a house where there was an… active couple, Hyden had to take preventative measures to get a good night’s sleep.  Strong incense burning every night, he usually went with pine or maple scents to remind him of home - sandalwood no longer interfered with his powerful scent ability.  And to keep his ears from picking up anything, noise cancelling earmuffs did the trick.  Domino usually wasn’t in town so he didn’t have to use them, but he knew to break them out when Swoon started getting giddy - for it usually meant she’d gotten news of the former Captain’s return.  
  
So he found it decidedly unusual that when he woke up in the middle of the night for a bathroom break that when he stepped out of his room he was overcome with the smell of death and blood.  The need to pee forgotten, Hyden filled one of his hands with an orb of fire and moved around the house cautiously.  His nightvision wasn’t as good as a normal Demon’s so the added light from the spell actually helped a lot without letting possible intruders know someone was awake.  
  
He got to the kitchen, and found it ransacked.  Drawers taken out, and cabinets emptied onto the floor.  In the living room, the television was gone, as were the photos on the wall - and the end table Swoon had brought from her home when she moved in.  He passed by Evgenija’s old room, still locked, and made his way to the master bedroom shared by the adults in the home.  
  
The room was mostly empty,  everything of Swoon’s was gone, as well as most of Domino’s most valuable items.  Except… Domino himself.  The ferret was splayed out on the naked mattress of his bed with a clear hole in his chest.  Hyden processed what he’d seen and had to force himself to remain functional for a solid minute.  He remembered what his mother had told him when they’d found Seburr stabbed to death in the streets of Vecenstein.  
  
_”Push the feeling deep inside you and lock it up.  We have to keep moving and keep thinking right now, but we can cry about this later, alright sweetie?”_  
  
Hyden’s fire orb had disbursed, so he worked up a spell of light, to examine… Domino’s body.  The injury looked like someone had shoved their hand into his toso and yanked something out - but he didn’t want to touch the body to find out what.  The ferret’s bronze eye was missing, and his remaining eye was wide open, with evidence he’d been crying.  Domino’s strange ninja-pajamas had absorbed a lot of the blood from his injury, but Hyden could smell more in the body drying out.  
  
There was no sign of Swoon anywhere - he couldn’t even smell her perfume.  The clear line of analysis said that… she was responsible for Domino being dead, and the house messed up.  She was an Angel, and easily over six hundred years old, it wouldn’t be difficult for her to do… but why?  Domino _loved_ her, and she loved him from everything she’d seen.  What he’d learned of Angels were that they coveted power, and as the oldest son of Ti’baltr’s current king, Domino would have been a really good match for her.  Even though he’d never likely be king himself - it was done through election, strangely.  
  
Hyden’s senses were barely above a Being’s, but he could pick up on the minute shift in temperature from a window or door opening.  The heat from outside rushed to fill the void from the air conditioned interior.  He nixed the light spell and gathered heat in his hands.  Fire would give him away, and he wasn’t strong enough to hurt most Creatures, but turning his claws into heated blades would give him _some_ cutting power.  The floor of the house was relatively new, so there was no creaking that he could hear as he left Domino’s body in pursuit of the intruder.  
  
There were three of them, all white-furred feline Demon women, with black hair and dresses.  They stood shoulder to shoulder, with their leathery black wings blocking out the kitchen behind them as they eyed him through the dark.  
  
“Was it you?”  Hyden, already discovered, let the heat in his hands become fire as he advanced into the living room.  “Did you three do it?”  The three looked from Hyden, to the room in which Domino lay, then back to the ram.  Without a word they shook their heads no.  “How can I believe you?”  
  
“We work for the Ti’baltr Trading Company,” the centermost Demon cat said while she produced a leather wallet from her cleavage, and flipped it open to reveal a carved wooden shield with the TTC logo emblazoned on it.  The other two did the same, but had more sensible carrying areas.  He started to look between them, to get more details on who was whom.  The center one who had spoke had her hair long, to the point Hyden wondered how she fought without it getting snagged.  Her long black gown was clearly not meant for combat, as it fanned out behind her and extended almost to the kitchen door from her place at the living room transition.  “I am Phoebe.”  
  
“Luna,” introduced the one on the left.  Her dress was similarly not conducive to a fight, but hugged her form more, and seemed to be made of leather.  She had a predatory expression that Hyden’s mother would have approved.  
  
“Selene,” the last informed.  She was the only one to go without makeup, or to wear trousers.  Her outfit was a pantsuit.  “We’ve been ordered to be your bodyguards until Director Donya can come with your legal representative.”  
  
“You’re with the department of conflict?”  Hyden’s question got a nod from the three of them as they broke their ranks to move about the house.  Phoebe went to the window and kept watch, Luna walked right up to Hyden while ignoring his fire-hands to examine him, and Selene went deeper into the house.  “H-hey, I need more details here and- mind where you put your hands lady!”  Politeness didn’t seem to apply when his hands were covered in magical fire, which Hyden demonstrated to the Demon cat.  She actually chuckled at him.  
  
“Two thousand adventurers are en route to this location, investigating your parran’s souldeath,” Luna told him like it was a joke for him to laugh at.  He froze in horror, and the fire around his hands went out.  With the apparent threat gone, she went back to inspecting him.  “The director doesn’t want them doing as adventurers tend to do when this happens: killing every creature in three miles.”  
  
“Soul… death?”  Selene came back onto the scene with a suitcase - Hyden’s suitcase, he realized, and forcibly shoved Luna away from the teenage demon.  
  
“Both the Adventurer’s Guild and the royal family have aura detections set up to pick up where people are, what their status is, and if they’re alive,” Luna told him, in the same professional tone he’d heard teachers explaining bad news to parents in school.  “The royal family’s methods indicated soul death, which necessitates armed guards be dispatched to all members of the royal family, including you.”  
  
Hyden’s expression went slack as he tried to process the elder Demon’s words.  The pressure from suppressing the grief around Domino didn’t help measures, and he almost lost control.  The young demon buried his face in his hands and blindly walked back to the couch, which he fell backward onto.  “This is too much, I- I can’t.  I can’t **deal with this** madness right now.”  His breathing was shaky, from the suppressed urge to cry.  
  
“Geeze,” he heard Luna mutter.  “Kid acts like a Being- ow!”  The vivacious cat Demon was cut off by a full on slap from Luna, he could tell from the way the sensibly-dressed Demon’s shoes twisted on the wood floor.  
  
“There is no more time for questioning,” Phoebe declared with a dramatic flair as she entered the room.  “The mob is here.  Take your positions.”  
  
\--  
  
Dread made Evgenija’s feet heavy as they walked the long road from Ti’baltr to Domino’s house.  It was only the feel of hundreds of minds behind her that kept her moving forward.  There was no time to coordinate with Zoos or Aina on how to handle the situation.  Hyden was a half-demon, more than three quarters of the Adventurers in the mob would consider that enough of a reason to kill him.  He was also a foreigner, citizen or no.  Tribalism would be a factor they’d have to play around.  
  
Things didn’t get any better when they diverted off the road to split up and surround the house.  Inside she could clearly sense three people she’d never met, all surrounding Hyden.  Had it become a hostage situation?  Evgenija and other sneaks in the mob were instructed by Arran to go in first while swordsmen and support casters got in position.  
  
As she made her advance, fading partially out of the physical world as sneaking up on Creatures required, she felt herself pass through some barrier that had not been there before.  A glance back let her know it had repelled the sneaks that had come with her.  Once that had been revealed, the magical artillery began to fire off.  The house was surrounded by a translucent bubble that appeared whenever a spell struck it - devastating the local sandalwood forest with explosions, ice, and other elements that were deflected off.  
  
On her own, she made her way into the house.  The shadows were her ally, letting her pass in and out of the physical world at will.  In the living room there were three Demons - all women, all feline, all surrounding Hyden who was in a fetal position on the couch.  There seemed to be no force restraining him.  If she could just get in close enough… a cloud passed over the moon, darkening the room, and giving her the shadows she needed.  
  
However one of the Demons was able to reach into the shadows, and knock Evgenija back.  She skidded on the floor from being forced back into real space, and fanned her wings in a threat display.  
  
“We are with the Ti’baltr Trading Company’s department of conflict,” the evident leader of the group, in a dress that could have been lovely if it had not been so low on her chest.  “We are acting as bodyguards for this claimant to the royal family until his legal representative is present.”  
  
“I am Evgenija Moroscova,” the lammergeier informed the Demons, producing knives between her fingers.  “Adventurer commander to Domino Ti’balt.  You are in the house of my murdered friend, and are keeping his foster son captive.  Claims to official authority requires further evidence.”  
  
The three Demon women consulted each other and looked back at Hyden briefly.  Evgenija looked too, and picked up on subtle shoulder movements - the boy was crying.  He was older than Evgenija had been when she’d lost her mother, but the inability to grieve that loss had cost her dearly, so she couldn’t begrudge Hyden’s emotions.  Even if they made him a load to be carried in the present situation.  
  
“Very well.  We will keep your mob from doing harm to the claimant, but the barrier protecting the house will be dropped so you can investigate the scene of the murder.  There will be no questioning of the claimant until his legal representative is present.”  The woman spread her arms and made a questioning expression, clearly seeking approval from Evgenija.   
  
The knives between her fingers were returned from whence they came, and she slowly walked backward out of the house.  Her eyes never left the trio, as she opened the door and walked outside blindly.  
  
The magical bombardment ceased as she approached, and Arran came up to the barrier to hear her speak.  The Guild Master decided that the bulk of the mob would start fanning out to seek out local Creatures for questioning, and an investigative team would be sent in with Evgenija’s squad to check the house.  Anti-Demon snipers were ordered to look for firing lines in the surviving trees, with orders to go for kill-shots on all four Demons should something happen.  
  
Arran himself would verify the women’s identities for the mob, and verify the ‘legal representative’s’ authentication when they arrived.  
  
“Yelmo,” Evgenija spoke in her ‘order’ voice.  “You will be the sniper in charge of taking out Hyden if it become necessary.”  The dog paused for a second before he went red in the face.  
  
“Now you listen here-!”  His tirade was stopped short by Evgenija glaring at him.  
  
“You know Demons well enough to know how to take down a weak half-breed with no trouble.  And you care about the boy enough to give him a chance.  He’s not handling this well at all and could snap at someone.  I _refuse_ to have anyone without empathy making kill decisions for him.”  The last sentence was directed at Arran, and she held his gaze, as if to dare him into countermanding her.  Instead, the kangaroo nodded.  
  
Zoos, only slightly less red in the face snarled a bit before heading off for the treeline.  The lammergeier turned her gaze to Aina.  The swan phoenix had glazed over eyes, and her broom-staff was held loosely in her hands.  Domino and her had some past business that they’d never been willing to discuss, and clearly the news had not set well with her.  
  
“Aina….”  The swan looked in Evgenija general direction, not directly at her.  “You don’t have to go in if you don’t want to.”  
  
“I know.”  Aina’s voice was raspy, like she had gone without water too long.  “But I need to see… the body.  I don’t think I’ll believe it until I see it’s really him.”  
  
With nothing left to say, Evgenija led the ten adventurers left into the house.  Aina went with the investigators to search the house, while Evgenija and Arran went directly to the Demons in the living room.  
  
“Luna, Phoebe, Selene,” Arran greeted the three stranger Demons stiffly, and they in turn acknowledged him in their own way.  The leader of the three tilted her head back, the trouser-wearing hussy smiled at the kangaroo, and the plain-looking one waved.  “To verify you three aren’t shapeshifted, what did we do on the Lonely Island that required an emergency room visit?”  
  
“Marlyn, the king’s niece, threw a Molotov cocktail at the king’s son and badly burned him.”  All three of them answered together, and the answer made her glance at Arran in surprise.  A wave of grief and despair washed over Evgenija all of a sudden, and almost forced her to cry from the intensity.  But after years of dealing with tragedy, she adapted and overcame it quickly.  From her guess, Aina had found Domino’s remains.  
  
“Why are the king’s guards here?  The king’s son is dead, and needs no protection now.”  
  
The leader, ‘Phoebe’, gestured with her wide sleeves to Hyden behind her.  “This one is a candidate for Mikhail’s bloodline.  Our orders are to treat him as an extension of the royal family in times of crisis until it is disproven or verified.”  
  
“That good-for-nothing runt?”  A knife was in Evgenija’s hand before she realized she was about to stab her _Guild Master_ in the throat.  She bit down on the instinct and put the blade away.  Hyden would soon be a man, and he could defend himself.  No matter how badly Evgenija wished to do it for him.  
  
“We got hairs,” one of the investigators called from the master bedroom.  “Doing a scan now.”  Evgenija looked through the window, and confirmed Zoos’ presence in the trees before leaving the living room to go to the scene.  
  
She felt like she had been stabbed in the stomach when she saw Domino, laid out on the mattress, a massive hole in his chest.  Aina was staring at the body, bawling without a word while the investigative team worked around her.  But there was something… wrong with the situation.  It was like before her vision had been clouded, and she began to piece together the scene.  All of the property owned by Swoon was missing, along with Domino’s valuables.  
  
She quickly patrolled the house and discovered the only rooms not torn up for their most valuable objects to be Hyden’s… and hers.  Domino had always respected her privacy, and for that she respected him more than any Ti’baltic man deserved.  The ferret had let her put a lock on her door, and never asked for a copy of the key, even when she moved out.  ‘You will always have a place here, if you need it’, he had said.  
  
So she fished her keychain out of her hidden purse, and found the key to her room.  Evgenija had expected something malevolent or damning to be hidden in her room, it seemed so obvious a place where Swoon’s body could have been stored by a shapeshifter without fear of discovery.  But no, there was just a layer of dust on the furniture.  
  
Without more leads until the hairs that had been discovered were scanned, she left the door open for the investigative team and returned to the living room.  As she passed the master bedroom again, she stopped to look at the corpse of her friend.  The circumstantial evidence pointed to Swoon or Hyden being the murderer, but Hyden wasn’t stupid enough to remain.  And… for all she had been able to sense from the Angel woman, she had genuinely loved Domino.  
  
Who could do such a thing to someone they loved?


	15. Smackdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wild fight appears!

**Chapter 15: Smackdown**  
  
“Make way, make way!  Lawyer coming through.”  Hyden flicked an ear toward the new voice he heard enter the kitchen, but didn’t move from his position curled up on the couch.  One of the good parts of being a demon was that he got over the weepy bits of being sad quickly.  But the depressive part, that made the whole world seem awful so why bother doing _anything_ didn’t go by so easy.  
  
The new voice was high-pitched, squeaky, and accompanied by a buzzing sound.  When he turned his head enough to look out on the scene, he saw Mr. Donya walking in the living room, accompanied by a blue-white glowing… person?  They eminated so much light, and were so small he couldn’t discern features well, but he could tell they were bipedal, had two arms and a head, but also tiny insect wings flapping furiously to allow them to hover.  As they moved, quick as a bird, a trail of blue-white sparkles hung in the air behind them momentarily.  
  
“Hyden Bloodstone, I’m Bellblossom, your company-provided lawyer,” said the… Mythos he presumed as it landed on his nose.  Bellblossom weighed next to nothing, he noticed.  “The adventurers hear haven’t hurt you or caused you emotional distress have they?”  
  
“No.”  Hyden’s voice was croaky from his previous fit of crying.  He didn’t want to shake his head and risk tossing Bellblossom.  There was a tiny snapping sound and a bubble formed around the two of them.  
  
“There, now no one outside can hear or see in here.  This is as close to a private place to talk as we can get.”  Hyden looked out on the scene, Mr. Donya was talking to Evgenija about something, before he stepped aside for one of the adventurers examining Domino’s room to talk to the kangaroo guy.  “Now… this is going to be unpleasant.  But I’m your legal representative, what you say to me is confidential, and I will do my best to see you free no matter what.  Did you do this?”  
  
He wanted to be mad about the accusation, he wanted to be able to go into a tirade about it.  But in the back of his mind he realized how this had to look.  A demon not detecting someone in his home being murdered until after it’d happened?  “No,” he answered.  “I... couldn’t have done it.  Domino died from having his chest bust into and something yanked out.  I can’t break bones that easy.”  
  
Bellblossom’s figure tilted their head and put their hands on their hips, as if to convey disbelief.  But Hyden didn’t change his reasoning, so they shrugged and burst the bubble.  “Alright, I can work with that.”  
  
Bellblossom floated up and started rapid-fire talking at the kangaroo guy, not talking to, talking at.  The increasing sour expression on the man’s face did nothing from dissuading them from keeping up the talking, so fast that Hyden couldn’t really pick up on what was being said.  
  
“Does this house have an attic?”  He heard a mouse adventurer ask Evgenija after coming back from the region of Hyden’s room.  
  
“No, I’m told the old attic was taken apart to give the kitchen and living room higher ceilings,” responded Evgenija.  She barely looked at anyone, keeping her back perfectly straight and her expressions neutral.  But Hyden could tell from the way her breathing was just a tad too fast for someone wearing a corset that she was _forcing_ herself to remain that way.  
  
“There’s a storm cellar.”  All eyes turned to Hyden as he started standing up.  “Swoon demanded it be added after hurricane Nogu.  It’s at the other end of the clearing - inside the shed where the lawnmower is.”  Evgenija and two other adventurers left the house quickly.  
  
The three cat Demons still stood around Hyden, not letting anyone else draw close.  Hyden tried to get around them, but found it difficult when they seemed to be able to coordinate to keep up a roughly triangular formation around his movements.  
  
“Ladies,” Mr. Donya spoke up, having one hand in a thinker position under his chin while supporting it with the other.  “I think you’re going to be needed outside.”  Without a word, the felines broke formation and walked in locked step out of the room.  
  
“They told me Domino’s soul was-”  Mr. Donya cut him off as he approached the snow leopard.  
  
“I’ll answer any questions I can, when your legal representative is done using their words to grind the Guild Master into powder, and the situation outside is resolved.”  Hyden glanced at th kangaroo, looking like he had swallowed a glass of pure lemon juice while Bellblossom talked, quoting legalise Hyden guessed.  
  
“Wait, a commotion?”  As if on cue, an explosion sounded outside, shattering the windows and sending glass from the sliding doors, and metal debris from the shed flying inward.  However, a second later, Hyden noticed one of Mr. Donya’s wings had enlarged to cover the entire transition from kitchen to living room, protecting all parties from the shrapnel.  As soon as the incubus’ wing shrunk down again, the kangaroo guy rushed outside with his axe ready.  
  
“Arrogant little girl,” Mr. Donya criticised while Hyden watched Evegenija, the feline demons, and the adventurers all move around in the dust cloud from the fight.  “Lingering because she wanted to summon a warp aci to move all her plunder.”  
  
“Aren’t you going to help them?”  Mr. Donya looked down at Hyden with an arched brow and a thin-lipped expression.  
  
“I would - and maybe my decades out of practice fighting would turn the tide out there.  But my priority is keeping you safe in here.”  Hyden tried to rush past him when he saw a winged figure in the dust send Evgenija flying off with a punch.  Instead, he was lifted physically off the ground with one of Mr. Donya’s tentacles wrapped around his waist.  
  
“Let me go, they need help!” Bellblossom floated into his view and once more rested on his nose.  
  
“As your legal representative, I have to advise you to let the professional combat Demons, and Adventurers take down the monster out there.”  
  
“Unfortunately,” Mr. Donya actually _growled_.  “Because she’s going to get away, it doesn’t look like it’ll matter.”  Hearing this, Hyden tried to struggle free, but the thinly feathered tentacle held him fast without giving an inch.  
  
Outside, she heard cackling along with the kangaroo guy who had called him a ‘runt’ calling for a reinforcements.  One of the Demon cats, Luna, was physically thrown through the house, necessitating Mr. Donya moving Hyden out of the way while she flew out through the living room wall.  
  
“Fighting style is reminiscent of the Academy advanced combat course, no tentacle-heads, and… ah, I see the clan mark.”  Hyden couldn’t see anything outside from the dust of the explosion, and the ash from the magic bombardment had stayed in the air unnaturally long.  “Hrienth clan.  The Guild has a flee on sight order for those Cubi.  But they didn’t notice it in time, anyway.”  
  
“Cubi?  They’re fighting a Cubi out there?”  Bellblossom fluttered around, trying to get a good look.  “That’s going to complicate the case exponentially.”   
  
“And getting absolutely demolished from the looks of it.”  A strong wind thinned the mist enough for Hyden to see two figures, both with tentacles coming out of their backs clashing repeatedly.  “Ms. Moroscova has called on her clan’s powers to even the field, but when the reinforcements Arran’s called show up the girl will just ‘port out of here.”  
  
“Then let me go, and you can go help them!”  Hyden frantically clawed at Mr. Donya’s tentacle as he watched the figure in a flowing dress, he guessed Evgenija take a spinning kick to the spine and go sailing off.  
  
“Alright, this place has gotten entirely too dangerous already.”  Quickly, Hyden found Mr. Donya forcing the suitcase Selene had made for him into his hands.  “Bellblossom, sweetie, my card.”  Hyden’s lawyer enveloped him in another bubble, and held up a business card almost as big as their body.  In a flash of orange-gold light, they were gone.  
  
\--  
  
The fight was not going well, Evgenija realized as she had to roll out of the way of Arran’s axe, and the man’s arm, were tossed at her prone position.  She had always read that Cubi were weak at fighting because of their powers, and their emotional instability.  It was why she prioritized control, even as she felt the delicious, **juicy** fear all around her putting strength back in her limbs, and the pulse-pounding power of Kish’Ta running through her like an electric current.  
  
But the succubus that had emerged from the storm cellar had just defeated an Adventuring Guild Master, and three bodyguard Demons.  The succubus, a lime green lynx in a form-fitting blue dress, seemed to have absolutely no trouble keeping anyone save Evgenija from being able to engage her for more than a minute’s time.  
  
Her blades had been useless, so the lammergeier produced a tomahawk in each hand and rushed the murderess, sinking into her own shadow to gain speed and attack from below.  When she lunged up, the feline succubus blocked both chopping axes with her tentacles - which actually shed some of the vile beast’s blood.  At last, something to indicate she was not invincible.  
  
But with her tentacles occupying Evgenija, her hands were free to work magic, and a second later the Adventurer Succubus found a spear of ice lodged in her liver.  Following her tutor’s advice, she backed off the fight, to take mass away from her own wings to fill the gap around the spear and prevent bloodloss.  
  
The sorceress Demon was the only combatant left, Phoebe Evgenija believed her to be.  The Demon woman threw out spells of healing onto the downed Adventurers and Evgenija herself, while keeping the succubus from being free to move around with suppressing fire.  
  
With a terrible roar, another combatant entered the fray.  A massive taur Creature, reptilian in appearance with skin in many shades of blue, a thick and powerful tail covered in spikes, three eyes, and teeth longer than Evgenija’s fingers lept clear from the house all across the clearing to descend on the succubus like death from above.  
  
As it fell, Evgenija noticed an orange symbol at the base of its throat, like a long-shafted hammer bent into a circle around a dot.  The succubus somehow managed to shove the unknown species of Mythos off her, though with a terrible shoulder wound from its teeth.  
  
A profound crack split the air, and a mote of purple light sailed through the air, one of Zoos’ magic shots, and found its purchase in the bite wound left by the mythos.  The two injuries combined to result in the succubus’ arm falling away from the main body.  
  
Evgenija and the Mythos both advanced on the succubus rapidly, even as she started to fade away.  A teleportation spell, Evgenija dimly realized and threw her tomahawk to attempt a killing blow.  The succubus seemed to smirk at the lammergeier as she became insubstantial enough for it to pass through, and vanish altogether.  
  
The Mythos landed in the spot she had occupied, shattering the ground with its weight.  “Phoebe,” it ground out in a voice she recognized.  The snow leopard incubus who had been inside.  “You got her face and clan mark spot memorized?”  
  
“Yes sir,” the Demon responded, dedicating her healing powers on keeping Arran and an investigative Adventurerer alive.  
  
“Then we add her to the list of bounties.  Your guild,” the Mythos pointed at Evgenija with a hand that had only two fingers and no thumbs, “has exclusive scrying rights to that arm for three months since it was Yelmo who took it off her.  After that, we alternate scrying attempts.”  Evgenija nodded, feeling her injuries more and more as Kish’Ta’s power faded from her system.  
  
Over the course of ten seconds, the Mythos reduced itself back into the suit-wearing blue and orange snow leopard she associated with Domino’s ‘uncle’.  “All in all,” the leopard seemed… _peppy_ , “not a bad ending for a fight that was way, _way_ out of your league.”  
  
She wasn’t proud to admit that the only reason she didn’t throw her other tomahawk at him was because the pain from the ice spear made it hard to move without Kish’Ta’s power.


	16. Emotions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dosve talks a lot.

**Chapter 16: Emotions.**

 

The house was a complete loss.  The explosion had damaged the foundations, and Luna being thrown through it had snapped two vital supports.  Dosve was able to support the roof while Ms. Kynaston and Domino’s remains were recovered, but afterward the building lasted less than a minute on its own.  A lovely little family home, which had been in the Ti’balt family for seven hundred years, destroyed in an afternoon.  
  
But it was a _building_ , it could be _replaced_.  The same could not be said for people.  And once the healers from Arran’s adventurer mob showed up, it was firmly decided that the Swoon impersonator would claim no other lives from her escapade.  He called her an impersonator, but until he checked the citizen registry, he wouldn’t be certain if there had ever been a real Swoon to impersonate.  
  
Phoebe had been able to collect enough of the succubus’ blood to fill a vial for him, which he thanked her for.  Even without the arm, the carefully preserved visceral liquid would give Dosve all he needed to make her _suffer_.  
  
Taking on the Blue Volcano Mythos form had been his only real combat option at the time - he had no puppets to command to fight on his behalf, and raising Domino’s body would not have been effective.  Perhaps Aliph had been right - he’d been growing too rusty that he no longer carried weapons nor could take down a single opponent with the number advantage.  
  
Taking a course from Taun’s daughter at the Academy was in order.  Such a thing would be as good as a war for getting his edge back.  But that would be for the future, there was the present still to deal with.  
  
“I trust you remember the way to my house?”  Dosve loomed over Ms. Moroskova while she was being tended to by healers.  She said nothing, but nodded.  “That is where I sent Hyden, my staff will see to his needs while this mess is cleared up.”  He looked up and examined the scene.  Adventurers had gathered around Domino’s remains to pay respects, while Aina stayed in proximity.  Mr. Yelmo was making his way over as well.  
  
That just left the matter of the storm cellar.  
  
Perhaps he should have been worried with how many adventurers there were at the scene, but he was a son of Piflak - he would act as if he had every right to be there and none of them would challenge him on the issue or face the consequences.  
  
The storm cellar hadn’t actually been the epicenter of the explosion - the Hrienth woman had launched a powerful explosion spell from the cellar’s stairs and it impacted the roof of the shed. Placing a storm cellar in a shed was an awful idea, Dosve realized as he made his way down the stairs.  Too easy for a hurricane to knock the structure down and leave the people inside trapped.  
  
In the cellar, sure enough, was the missing property from Domino’s house, along with evidence of an incomplete summoning ritual.  The explosion had smashed most of the delicate things, but large pieces had survived.  He found Domino’s eye, and a box with a heart on the decoration, but with nothing inside.  Perhaps the girl had taken it with her.  
  
Irrelevant.  Something of hers was needed, to pair with the blood.  And in a situation where it wasn’t known how long she’d been in disguise, there was really only one option: hairbrush.  Domino had given ‘Swoon’ his grandmother’s hairbrush, carved out of ebony, inlaid with ivory in a scene of fair Nanbi brushing her hair, and just the right level of gaudiness in Dosve’s opinion.  
  
“Blue hair, blue hair, blue hair… aha.”  The great thing about people with such bright hair colors was that against dark colors, such as ebony, they stood out.  Three strands of blue hair he extracted from the hairbrush.  And all that was needed was to go home and make a poppet to enact vengeance on the girl while Adventurers hunted her down.  Without putting thought into really trying, Dosve began to slip between space, moving from the cellar to his home not terribly far away.  
  
As he manifested in the cellar of his home, his staff descended on him.  Providing a change of clothes so that the suit could be cleaned of blood and debris, providing materials to begin making the poppet, and informing him of the status updates he’d missed while gone.  
  
“The operation in Port Kolma is a success, peace talks are significantly less likely.”  
  
“The Hatchet Job, Antiquity, and Vernacular are in position to keep the merchant fleet safe when making runs between Ti’baltr and Port Kolma.”  
  
“Your mother sends you a happy birthday message and has made an appointment for lunch with you.”  
  
“The young man you sent is having an emotional breakdown in the backup office.”  
  
“Given how weak he is, if he were seven years older I’d wonder if he was going to sprout headwings,” Dosve muttered while bending down so a maid could adjust his tie.  His hands were occupied with a colorless stuffed doll in a rough approximation of a lynx succubus with the stomach open.  He wrapped the hairs around the vial of blood Phoebe had given him, and inserted it into the poppet’s stomach before sewing it shut.  
  
While he and his entourage made their way upstairs, the poppet began to color itself.  Green and blue like the succubus had been, with the purple moon of Hrienth on the sole of her foot.  A butler handed him a fork, which he began to stab into the doll’s torso repeatedly.  Each thrust released a pulse of sympathetic magic, and Dosve grinned from the effect.  Fork stabs, while minor, would still hurt.  And without sinew, all he could do was hurt.  
  
The sun was just about to start rising, so there was plenty of time before he had lunch with his mother, thus Dosve went into the backup office where Hyden lay among a pile of once-luxurious rubble.  With some orange-gold dust falling from Dosve’s hands as he passed, the furnishings of the room repaired themselves.  The snow leopard sat behind his desk, and enjoyed stabbing the succubus doll some more while Hyden continued to lay, insensate.  
  
“She ended up getting away.  But with Adventurers chasing her, and my magic keeping her from being able to relax, odds are she’ll be caught sooner rather than later.”  The boy had done as adventurers would, bury the pain to keep functional.  But from what he could piece together from snippets of emotion coming from the boy, there was just _so much_ that he couldn’t manage it.  The young demon’s thoughts were drifting between images of Domino’s body, a stag Being bleeding out in… Vecenstein?  The stonework reminded Dosve of the far north.  “I’m sorry, but we can’t have him made into an undead.  He’s had a grave reserved for him in the Adventurer’s graveyard for a while now.”  
  
“... Not the Company’s?”  After several minutes of nothing but Dosve stabbing the poppet and relishing in the magic pulses that transmitted sensation to the _witch_ responsible for the situation, Hyden spoke up.  Slowly, the ram managed to sit up and move to one of the leather and ebony chairs he’d previously destroyed.  
  
Dosve, in hindsight, realized how terrible the boy’s fit had to have been to push his strength far enough to break ebony wood.  “No.  After the Harridan was sunk, some of the family’s crew filed complaints against Domino having a reserved grave next to their loved ones.  He relinquished the spot rather than fight parents, wives, and husbands.”  
  
“But it wasn’t his fault the Harridan sunk.”  The snow leopard nodded appreciatively at the growing rage in the boy’s demeanor as he gained information.  It revealed so many red buttons he could push to lead the boy around.  
  
“Unfortunately, as far as they were concerned, it was.  The ones responsible for the attack were rounded up and… _dealt with_ , but that didn’t matter to the families.”  Anger and confusion enough to keep a Cubi well fed radiated off him, which Dosve took as a question - the boy was too busy trying to wrap his mind around the situation to speak.  “The Harridan had been a cursed ship.  She was largely seen as a punishment posting, and that’s what it had been intended when Domino was assigned there.  But he went to his friends and allies in the merchant, enforcement, and resource acquisition fleets to get a crew of spirited, happy, and most importantly, _willing_ people.”  The stabbing of the poppet was set aside to give Hyden Dosve’s full attention.  “There was no one on that ship that had not been asked to serve aboard.  Some gave up promotions, Ms. Canora - the first mate - gave up a command of her own.  But it was Domino that put them there to die when the attack came.”  
  
“So they blamed him... because of that?”  The incubus nodded, noting how already the anger had congealed into bitterness.  
  
“Mhm.  People, especially Beings, tend to get vindictive and unreasonable when their loved ones are killed.”  Hyden looked down, and his thoughts began to swirl in a tumult so dense Dosve could not pick out much information - so he went back to stabbing the poppet with the fork.  “You had questions about his death, if I recall?”  
  
“Was it Swoon that did it?”  Dosve noticed that Hyden had started to grip the ebony arm of his seat with sufficient strength to make it groan from the strain.  Impressive for a ‘good-for-nothing runt’.  
  
“We don’t know yet.  The department of voices is checking their records to see if an Angel named Swoon ever really existed in our system, or if the succubus had been her the whole time.”  That the witch hadn’t been able to escape Dosve’s poppet magic yet meant she hadn’t gone to the Academy.  Perhaps she genuinely had been pregnant, and thus couldn’t take refuge there.  
  
“The… bodyguards, they said Domino’s soul was destroyed?”  Existential fear washed over Dosve like a wave, originating from the ram demon.  When Dosve looked at him, in that same chair in the same room, feeling the same fear, he briefly saw a young ferret who had come to him crying that his father was going to kill him.  Dosve still hadn’t forgiven Dylan for implying such things to young Domino - mutations or no.  
  
He took a deep breath and set the poppet aside in a desk drawer.  “Yes, the succubus did consume Domino’s soul, but... Really it’s only a more parasitic way of killing.”  Thin lines of disbelief began to break up the wave of fear eminating from Hyden, who slowly looked up at Dosve.  “The belief in an afterlife was largely spread by several Creatures to keep their weaker subjects in line, along with making certain crimes artificially worsened in severity by making soul destruction a punishment.  Really, a soul is little more than an energy field that contains some information about the person’s life.”  
  
“How do you know that?”  Dosve snapped his fingers and produced a improbably thick tome - with a dark blue symbol of a crescent moon and bizarre circle close together with a pair of dots at their middle.  
  
“I read Zezzuva’s book on the subject is how.”  He held up the tome for Hyden to grab.  “The book’s enchanted to change to whatever language you know the best, so aside from how technical it is, you should be able to follow it.”  
  
“Thanks.”  Hyden opened up to the first page of the forward, and after only a few seconds he snapped the book closed and looked at Dosve with doubt.  “I don’t know what half of those words mean.”  
  
“You need to invest in a dictionary then, my boy.  Any other questions?”  Discomfort added onto the layers of emotions Hyden was giving off, and Dosve could pick up the word ‘claimant’ from his surface thoughts.  ‘Note to self,’ Dosve thought while waiting for Hyden to spit it out, ‘find out who told them to spill the secret.’  
  
“Um.  The bodyguards are for people of the royal family, right?  So why’d they come to me?”  The ram’s gaze quickly darted from Dosve, to the portrait of Dosve’s mother over the fireplace, and the book, the boy was unable to sustain his gaze.  
  
Dosve took a deep breath and clicked his tongue against his teeth.  “Well.  Domino didn’t want you told until you were in your mid twenties - something about the age of adulthood in Vecenstein, I think.  But… we are ninety-five percent certain you are in fact descended from Mikhail through your grandmother.  That’s why Isarra kidnapped you when she found out.”  Hyden found himself able to look at Dosve directly again, before the ram let out a forced laugh.  
  
“That’s… not a very good joke, sir.”  
  
“I’m not joking.”  All humor and mirth vanished from Dosve’s face and his voice.  “Over the three years you’ve been here, you’ve been inspected to find if you’re blood descended, and if you’d be a right fit.  As your cousins, and younger siblings have been arriving in steady numbers, we’re not short on applicants.  Yes, at least your mother and cousin Auriga are alive as far as we know - they’ve been sending their children to live with you but you weren’t exactly in a place to take care of them.”  Once more rage and disbelief came to the forefront of Hyden’s emotional spectrum, and for once the boy almost looked like a Demon as he began to snarl.  “They have each been placed with foster families who are loving them every second of every day - we made sure of that.”  
  
“Who’s ‘we’?”  Hyden had stood, operating mostly on the instinct of ‘intimidate answers out of the weak Cubi’.  But Dosve stood up as well, and reminded Hyden how much larger the snow leopard was.  
  
“Domino and I.  Because the children came from an _active war zone_ , they fell under the department of conflict as refugees rather than immigrants.”  Dosve sighed when he saw that the boy was too incensed to really be thinking about what was being said.  “Please understand that I do understand… but I’m afraid that at no point in the situation was I required to inform you.  You were having fun, doing schoolwork, setting up for a career, taking care of your younger family members would have been impossible.”  
  
“What about Asir?”  The question actually caused Dosve to blink in confusion.  “My other cousin who’s here.  He has a job, he’s trying to become a citizen cause he’s related to me.  Did you tell him?”  
  
“... I have no idea who this ‘Asir’ is, but if he’s from Vecenstein too he should have been directed to me as a refugee, not an immigrant.  If he does have a job and is amenable, yes I would contact him about taking care of a niece or nephew.  If they weren’t already placed in homes.”  Dosve pinched the bridge of his nose, knowing the absolute hissy fit Florine was going to throw when he brought the subject up.  Admitting the information seemed to trip Hyden up, stopping his growing temper tantrum in its tracks.  “... Would you like to meet them?  Your younger sister and brothers?  I could set up a meeting with their foster families.”  
  
For a moment, Hyden seemed to forget Domino’s death - as was expected of Demons, and focused on the family his instincts told him to prioritize.  Drained of energy, the teen flopped backward into the chair.  Dosve sat as well, the conflict resolved.  “After… after the funeral.  If that’s okay?”  
  
“That’s fine.  Would you like to rest?”  Hyden’s emotions had dulled into general numbness, he’d been feeling too much too fast, but he nodded mechanically.  Dosve rang for a maid to show the boy to a guest room, and when the boy was gone picked up the phone to make the most important call of the day.  “Hello, Mother.  You would not _believe_ the day I’ve had so far….”


	17. In the limelight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aina and Renet get some focus.

**Chapter 17: In the limelight.**

 

Domino’s body was sent off to the Adventurer’s Guild morgue, to ascertain the exact time and cause of death.  Aina, obviously couldn’t go with it, so she bid farewell to her friend until his funeral.  The ferret’s passing would likely spell the end of their Adventuring group, and it was unlikely that Aina could find a new group to take her.  
  
While she trudged through the streets of Ti’baltr, still replete with Adventurers now too awake to go back to sleep, her mind swirled with what Domino’s death would mean for her and Dolf, her husband.  Domino had been her main character witness for the appeal of her In Breach of Contract status - without him, would the case be thrown out?  
  
She tried so hard not to think about how Domino had to feel when he died - killed by someone he loved so much.  It was a risk they all new could happen, the Guild even told him such when he first joined.  But she’d worked for Swoon for years, and while the Angel had been harsh and a taskmaster, and harped about Aina’s inability to do a perm correctly - Aina never suspected her of being a black widow.  
  
‘That’s how you got into this mess,’ she told herself bitterly while holding the broom staff closer to her chest.  ‘You didn’t think someone could hurt the people they loved.’  
  
Speaking of which, she was getting close to home.  And ideally, Dolf hadn’t gotten into too much of a mess.  The Kynaston house was… not particularly a house.  It was an abandoned building in Ti’baltr’s industrial sector.  Once, it had been used for the purification and manufacture of iron - but since Ti’baltr had switched almost entirely to conjured iron, the facility had gone to disrepair.  Partly because of the natural progress of things, and partly Aina’s own meddling, the nearby jungle had begun to reclaim the building.  In more than one place, trees had broken through the stone in their pursuit of optimal growing conditions.  
  
In what had once been the administration level did Aina and her husband make their home.  Grass had grown into a carpet, flowering vines grew around the frames of broken windows, and because Aina had magicked it so, an old vat filled with water for their needs.  But things such as paper to track expenses, food storage, clothes and sleeping arrangements, as well as basic entertainments - all suffered for the choice of lodging.  Aina found it perfectly pleasant, but Dolf hated it.  
  
As evidenced by her hearing him screech and smash something made of glass.  Probably one of the few windows left.  She sighed, and ascended the stairs to the living space, hoping that she would have the patience to deal with Dolf while processing that Domino was… gone.  
  
Dolf, Aina’s husband, was a peacock Being.  In his youth, he had been a thing of beauty;  possessing a sweeping train of vibrant tail feathers, aesthetically pleasing build, well maintained hair and plumage.  An extravagant match for the swan Phoenix woman, with her pure white feathers and naturally grey hair.  But time had been cruel, rendering Dolf’s train to ragged remains - each feather a precious thing that he mourned the loss of - and his once hunkish physique worn down into unhealthy thinness with his bones clearly showing.  The peacock stamped around the bedchamber of the improvised living area, switching from muttering and screeching as he waved around a colorful patch of paper.  
  
Aina recognized it immediately and looked around the room as her worn emotions kept her from getting enraged as should be proper.  Sure enough there were plenty of such colorful patches - covered in shiny silver portions that could be scratched off to reveal the contents.  “You’ve been gambling again,” Aina muttered while she still looked for the glass Dolf had broken.  
  
“And I almost _won!_ ”  The peacock held the scratch-off loto ticket he’d been holding up for Aina to see, but not close enough to discern the numbers.  “I could have won five hundred gold dollars if the damn company hadn’t tricked me - they moved the spots where the five hundred usually are!”  
  
“How much did you spend?”  Dolf acted as if he didn’t hear her, going off on a tirade about the unfairness of moving the usual winning number locations.  So Aina looked for the receipt while she looked for the glass Dolf had broken.  The glass was found a pile of blue and white porcelain - the last piece of Aina’s china set from when they had a home.  Fortunately, Domino’s foster son had invented a set of needles tipped with magic stones - household spells that he’d hoped would make keeping a house in order much easier.  For someone like Aina, whose spells were not conducive to such applications, it was a godsend.  She found the pink-tipped needle and wove it in the direction of the porcelain, which began to snap back together before her eyes.  
  
“And, with you waking me up so early in the morning - I couldn’t get back to sleep, you know how iffy my sleep schedule is - I had to find something to do, while you went off on that adventure.  So -....” Aina found the receipt for Dolf’s scratch-offs while preparing herself some tea with a pitcher of water from the vat, and the smokey quartz tipped needle.  There was a handy little switch on the magic item that let her determine the temperature of the water and the type of tea made - and she opted for green tea in light of the money Dolf had spent.  
  
“You spent… almost all of the pay I got for the adventure.  In a few hours.”  While the needle did its magic, Aina set her broom staff away and collapsed into the only chair in the living area.  “What are we going to do for groceries, Dolf?”  
  
“Just ask that ferret friend of yours for another loan or something, the _important_ thing is I think I have the new spots figured so I should be able to start getting five to seven hundred gold dollars for every ticket and - “  Emotional exhaustion let her just sit there and sip tea while Dolf went on his tirade about how much money he could earn.  Dolf had chosen a poor day to pull such stunts, as Aina couldn’t panic to think of solutions to the problem.  
  
“And the legal fees, Dolf?  That we’re already behind on?”  The swan coolly looked through the discarded tickets - most of them were rendered void from Dolf scratching out the whole thing to see where the winning ones were.  “You haven’t won us enough to cover… much of anything beyond this week.”  
  
Her husband flippantly waved his hand.  “Your friend’s come through for us every time in the past - he’ll do it again, no problem.”  
  
“No he won’t.”  Dolf’s face screwed up in rage like it did every time he’d been directly disagreed with.  “Because Domino’s dead.”  Underneath his affront, Aina could see the realization take hold, and rapidly the peacock went into denial about it - he tried to tell her she had to be wrong.  “That’s why the sirens went off this morning, Dolf.  Domino was soul murdered this morning.  He can’t help us anymore.”  
  
For years, the solution to their problems when Dolf made a mistake of this caliber was to go begging to Domino.  At last, they had run out of easy outs of the situation.  “Well… you can go on another adventure, right?  Something quick to get the money we need.  Yeah, yeah just take on another job - that’ll solve the whole mess.”  She wanted nothing more than to go to bed and wake up with the energy to start crying again.  But instead, there she was, watching her husband decide on the solution to the problem without any input from her.  
  
“You know, _you_ could get a job too, Dolf.”  Her husband curled his beak in a snarl at her, then launched into an explanation of why he _couldn’t_ do so because of the In Breach of Contract status, and how the stress of trying and failing would cause him to lose more feathers.  “Fine.  Whatever, I’ll look around for something I can do in town because I’m _not_ leaving the Big Island until Domino’s funeral is done at least.”  The swan Phoenix stood and bypassed Dolf, not giving him so much as a glance.  “And when I get paid - I’m going to keep the money with me so we don’t run into this problem again.”  
  
“Wha-?  You can’t do that!  I need money too, you know!”  Aina did know.  Living on his own in between her extended leaves was difficult for anyone, let alone someone as virulently unhappy as Dolf.  But in that moment, with the life she had struggled to rebuild almost destroyed _again_ and without her only friend to help, she simply couldn’t _care_.  
  
“I’m going to bed, we’ll talk more later.”  Aina fell onto the patched up waterbed, and lay there fully dressed for a while.  She didn’t remember when she fell asleep.  
  


* * *

  
By the time school started, everyone was talking about the big Adventurer battle that had happened in the early morning.  All the halls were talking about the view they’d had of the explosions or the adventurer’s from the big city they’d seen talking to neighbors and sometimes their parents.  
  
Renet had been worried the whole morning during her wake-up spar with Tyrone.  It felt, to her, that the Mother was trying to warn her of some danger but nothing came.  An unexplained tension in her limbs and something always drawing her eyes toward the forested region where the Adventurers had been.  
  
The feeling persisted through breakfast and th walk to school.  Tyrone was, as always, flippant about the matter.  No Adventurer had bothered them, so why would the Mother warn her about anything, he’d said.  It was the first time when he didn’t poke fun at her ‘asking the air for help’ since she started praying more frequently.  
  
Tyrone left her alone for a bit while they waited for the bell to let them go inside, so he could deliver a flying thunder kick to his younger brother as morning greetings.  It was then that she noticed, or rather failed to notice, something which she realized had to be the source of the Mother’s warning.  
  
Hyden wasn’t among the students milling around outside.  Renet asked some of the folks in Hyden’s school clubs - business, magic, and home economics - if they had seen him, but got only negative responses.  Fighting the urge to panic, she took out her phone and tried to call Hyden’s house to hopefully confirm he was just sick.  
  
“The number you have reached has been disconnected.  Please hang up, and try a different number.”  Hearing an automated response only made things worse, and Renet immediately went over to Tryone in the middle of his scrap to let the Demon know.  
  
“Tyrone, Hyden’s not here and his house phone’s disconnected!”  Her sudden shouting got the assembly of Demons to look at her, all with raised eyebrows.  
  
“Okay so we need to get his homework for him or something?”  The red dog Demon shrugged while holding his younger brother in a headlock.  “Wait, do we have a group project today?  Damnit, that means I’m going to have to work!”  The younger Demon was released while Tyrone recoiled in despair.  
  
“No, I mean I think he might have been involved in the Adventurer thing last night.”  Tyrone and the other Demons all looked between each other before gently clapping, and nodding.  
  
“If he did that’s actually pretty good for wimp like him.  I think a couple ambulances had to be called for the near deaths?”  Renet buried her face in her satchel bag and screamed, unable to otherwise vent her frustration.  “Oh, you think the Adventurers kill him!”  Tyrone pointed dramatically, and nodded when Renet admitted to thinking such.  “Well then we find the one that dealt the killing blow - gonna be hard, because who’ll want to admit they could only kill a Demon by killing Hyden - and rip their spine out!”  
  
The cow Amazon nodded, and sighed.  While she was more concerned that Hyden was hurt, for once Tyrone’s idea of ‘get revenge if needed’ seemed appropriate.  “I mean,” Tyrone’s little brother chimed in, “that runt guy’s pretty good at fire magic, right?  If he was fighting like his life depended on it, the whole forest would be on fire, yeah?”  
  
“Yeah… yeah,” Renet admitted with many nods.  “That makes sense.  Okay, I’m sorry for panicking.”  The cavalcade of Demons all nodded and made token lines of understanding while Tyrone immediately recaptured his little brother’s head for additional noogies.  
  
A bright orange-gold light lit up in the street in front of the school, drawing significant attention from students.  When it cleared, there was Hyden standing surrounded by white and black feline Demon women, while an orange glowrat hovered around them.  Relief flooded Renet, and she moved to go over to him.  Tyrone did the same while continuing to drag his younger brother with him.  
  
“I’m sorry, but please do not come any closer,” the fanciest-looking of the feline Demons told Renet while holding her hand up.  The cow stopped and looked between the Demons and Hyden in the middle.  He seemed… miffed and sad at the same time.  Siffed?  Miffad?  
  
“She’s my friend,” the demon ram muttered.  “They’re both my friends.”  One of the more sensibly dressed Demons bent down to talk into Hyden’s ear, and he scowled at what she had said.  “Alright, fine.  Whatever.  Sorry guys, but I have to go to in-school suspension for the day.  You’ll have to do that biology project without me.”  
  
The bell rang, and students started to migrate into the high school, Hyden and his Demon escorts with them.  Tyrone released his younger brother and waited alongside Renet.  She, for her part, was stunned and trying to process the situation.  “So,” the dog Demon bounced on the balls of his feet a bit.  “Think we can get Laramey to help with our biology project?”

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written using a friend's D&D setting within the DMFA-verse. Kebre, the namesake of the fic, and giving its name to the entire region, largest of the nations and currently ruled by an elk incubus. Very strong European Russian feel. The Ister Union which feels more Siberian, but with a hint of Scandanavian, and dangerously close to the arctic circle of Furrae. Ti'Baltr, almost right on the Equator, a trading nation based on an archipelago off the Kebre coast. And Kalpakstan to the south, a mysterious country ruled by a caliphate of dragons.


End file.
